


Her eyes look sharp and steady (into the empty parts of me)

by Heath17_KO5



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, F/F, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:46:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22939990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heath17_KO5/pseuds/Heath17_KO5
Summary: Lindsey is dating Russell. He's a good boyfriend. She loves Russell...probably.Lindsey is best friends with Sonny. She's the best of the best. And Lindsey definitely loves her (just maybe she's not quite sure how).
Relationships: Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett, Lindsey/russell
Comments: 31
Kudos: 299





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot but it started to get long and I decided to split it into two parts. (I know I said that about Orlando, too, and it ended up having 4 chapters, so we'll see what happens, but that's the plan right now.) There is a heavy dose of angst in this, but it's all emotional. Also heads up, there's some straight sex. Mostly glossed over, nothing too detailed.  
Anyway, hope you like it.  
xx

Russell is a good boyfriend. 

He’s tallish and he’s strong and he’s a little older which really just means that he’s settled in his life, he’s over the “hitting on everything in a skirt and wanting to stay out at bars until the early hours of the morning” phase of his life. That’s nice. It’s refreshing compared to the other guys who’ve made passes at her. 

He’s nice to her. He’s maybe not always the nicest to her friends, but he’s always nice to her, always asking her opinion, always inviting her on trips and bringing her along to work dinners. He includes her in his life. 

(And, okay, maybe sometimes she feels a little like a trophy. Maybe sometimes she feels a bit like he’s bringing her along just so that he can introduce her as “My girlfriend who won a World Cup and plays for the National Team.” Maybe sometimes she gets a little tired of hearing, “She was so good that she went pro straight out of high school.” Maybe sometimes she feels like he only wants her there as something to show off.)

Russell is nice and he knows how to make her smile and he’s settled and he’s stable.

(And, okay, maybe their chemistry isn’t exactly the kind that makes her see fireworks when they kiss. Maybe his touch doesn’t exactly set her on fire. Not all the time. But that’s normal. They’ve been together a while after all. And okay, maybe their sex isn’t exactly what she’d call passionate, but that’s not a big deal. It’s not BAD sex.)

Russell is a good boyfriend. He really is. And Lindsey is pretty sure she’s in love with him. 

  
  


Sonny is her BEST friend. 

She’s the type of best friend Lindsey can do anything with. The type of best friend she can call at 3 a.m. and she knows, without question Sonny will always pick up. The type of best friend that always knows just what to say to make her smile when she’s down and knows just when to shut up and listen when she needs a sympathetic ear. She’s the type of best friend who, no matter Lindsey’s mood, no matter how her day is going, it’s always better when she’s spent some time with Sonny. 

Sonny just gets her. She gets her in a way that Lindsey’s not sure any friend has ever gotten her before. They share soccer, they share coffee, they share avocado toast, they share Portland, they share laughs and Mario Kart and stories from their childhood and secrets. 

(And maybe Lindsey doesn’t share every secret. Maybe she doesn’t let Sonny know about how maybe she wishes her sex life was a little more fulfilling. Maybe she doesn’t tell Sonny that Russell’s kisses feel a little like she’s making out with a fish. Maybe she doesn’t mention how sometimes when their fingers brush she feels more alive than any time that Russell has ever touched her.)

Sonny is her best friend and her teammate and Lindsey knows she loves her. She knows she loves her as a friend and absolutely, definitely nothing more. 

  
  


“I brought Skinny Pop!” Sonny shakes the bag with a big grin on her face. 

“What flavor?” Lindsey asks, narrowing her eyes. 

“Umm, real cheddar. Obviously. What am I? A savage?”

Lindsey laughs. She always laughs when Sonny’s around. It’s like an imperative. 

Things with Sonny are-

Well they’re easy. 

Easy conversation, easy music choices, easy pick of TV shows, easy atmosphere, easy laughter, easy smiles. 

(Everything is easy with Sonny except the way that Lindsey’s heart beats a little faster sometimes when their eyes lock. Everything is easier except the way that she has to force her eyes not to look when Sonny’s changing. Not that it means anything. She loves Russell. Almost probably definitely.)

“Grey’s?” Lindsey asks as Sonny flops down onto the couch beside her, casually throwing a leg over Lindsey’s lap that she pretends to begrudge, that she pretends to glare at, that she gives a little shove of complaint before leaving it be warm and heavy against her thighs. 

“Obviously,” Sonny replies, busying herself with opening the bag of Skinny Pop. 

(And if sometimes Lindsey watches Sonny’s reactions more than the actual show, it’s not a big deal. It’s just that Sonny is so expressive. It’s just that Sonny catches her eye and pulls a goofy, exaggerated face about whatever scene they’ve been watching and the tension from the episode dissipates as Lindsey laughs. It’s not really her fault that when yet another character dies she’s watching Sonny pout overly-dramatically and grinning a little bit.)

  
  


Russell takes her out. He takes her out on an elaborate date. He takes her out to the most popular place in town and he smiles when she gets recognized for the tenth time and asked for a photo, like it’s not completely interrupting their meal, like it’s not making it all but impossible for them to have any meaningful sort of conversation. He’s only in town for the weekend, but he’s happy to share her, happy to see her get noticed, to take the pictures when the fans ask, handing over their phones with a hopeful smile. And Lindsey doesn’t really mind. She loves the fans. They’re always so sweet and some of them are so in awe it’s adorable. She can tell the way it makes their whole day sometimes. She remembers the feeling of meeting some of her idols for the first time. She can’t begrudge them that. Not really. 

And maybe Russell is just happy for her. Maybe Russell is just proud of his girlfriend. That’s reasonable. It’s not like he’s parading her around on purpose. He wanted tonight to be special, so he booked a table at a popular restaurant. That’s not a bad thing. 

(It’s maybe a little frustrating when the place he takes her dancing afterwards has a sort of red carpet outside and he insists the pose for pictures. It’s maybe a little frustrating that they still can’t talk because the music is pounding and he’s getting a little handsy, holding her hips a little low, pressing in a little close given that they’re in public. 

It’s maybe a little frustrating that when they get back to Lindsey’s apartment they still don’t get to talk because Russell just wants to kiss, just wants to get her undressed, just wants to thrust into her until he’s making that awkward come face he has, his eyes closed and mouth open in a silent moan. It’s maybe a little frustrating the way that Lindsey slips into the bathroom afterwards and finishes getting herself off because he’d rolled off and said he was tired, said he would take her to brunch in the morning, had started snoring within five minutes of cleaning himself up.)

  
  


“You and me versus Ellie and Caitlin. What do you say?” Sonny suggests, a gleam in her eye as she puts chalk on the end of her pool cue. 

(Lindsey isn’t watching her fingers. She’s not thinking about how they look nice with the new blue nailpolish, how her fingers look strong. She’s not admiring them. Obviously. That would be weird.) 

“You know Caitlin is actually pretty good,” Lindsey points out. 

Sonny puts her hand to her chest in mock offense. “Are you implying that I do not have phenomenal pool skills?” 

“I am implying that we should not put a lot of money on this game,” Lindsey replies with a grin. 

Sonny pouts and Lindsey rolls her eyes and doesn’t think about it when she reaches out to push Sonny’s bottom lip up. She doesn’t think about how when Sonny grins in response, she finds herself wearing a matching smile. She doesn’t think about how she feels warm all over when Sonny throws an arm around her and declares, “Come on. We can take them.”

  
  


Five beers and two (lost) games later, and Lindsey is happy when Sonny gets distracted by a song that’s playing. She’s laughing as Sonny does a little shimmy towards her, and pulls her into a ridiculous dance routine. 

She’s laughing as Sonny turns and backs up into her, wiggling her ass, until Sonny’s back is pressed to Lindsey’s front. And maybe her cheeks are a bit red, but she’s been drinking and she’s been laughing and the bar is a little warm anyway. And maybe she wraps an arm around Sonny’s stomach as Sonny turns and laughs into her neck and says, “I like it when you loosen up, Linds.” 

And maybe she holds Sonny a little closer as their hips sway in time to the music in a way that might not be deemed completely appropriate if they were anything more than friends, but they’re not. They’re just friends. So it means nothing when Lindsey slides a hand to Sonny’s hip and throws the other one over her shoulder as they continue to dance. It means nothing when Sonny spins around in her arms and Lindsey’s hand grazes over her ass in the process. 

It means nothing when their faces are so close that they’re sharing the same air, eyes locked on one another’s, hips slotted together. 

They’re just friends dancing together. Lindsey’s danced with other friends like this. 

(It doesn’t mean anything when she’s disappointed when Sonny dances away and grabs Caitlin’s hand, spinning her into a dance instead.)

  
  


Couples fight. It’s normal. It’s a healthy, normal part of a relationship. Nobody agrees ALL the time. Every relationship has its strains. 

Besides, long distance is hard. It’s really hard. Facetime and texts are one thing, but it’s no substitute for quality time with each other. 

And their schedules aren’t always great at overlapping. Lindsey likes to talk to Russell in the mornings, start off her day with him, but he has morning meetings so often. And Lindsey’s usually spending time with teammates in the evening when Russell’s free and decides he wants to catch up. 

(She’s usually spending time with Sonny in the evening.)

And when Lindsey’s at camp, well, there are no boyfriends at camp. It’s a rule. And it’s not like it’s just a rule for her. It’s a rule for everyone. (Okay, so Ali and Ash are obviously at camp together and Tobin and Christen are obviously at camp together, but when they’re there, they’re professionals and they understand the rules too.)

Russell doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand their need to be in a bubble. He doesn’t understand why she can’t just Facetime him everyday. It’s-

It’s a little annoying, and when she says that, well-

It’s not their first fight about this. 

But having fights is normal. They’re more like disagreements anyway. And it’s not like having those disagreements means that they don’t love each other. 

She loves him. She hates the fighting, but she definitely loves Russell. 

(It’s just maybe she doesn’t miss talking to him when she’s at camp and that’s- 

Well, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.)

  
  


Sonny fights dirty. 

It’s not fair. 

Lindsey had beat Tobin to be in this championship round of Mario Kart. TOBIN. She has a good chance at winning. 

She WOULD be winning. 

But Sonny fights dirty. 

Sonny’s sitting right next to her, thigh pressed against her own. She’s knocking into her when she tries to turn aggressively. 

It’s distracting. 

It’s polite to give your competitor a little space to breathe. 

And Sonny smells like soap and her green apple shampoo. And she’s wearing a tank top so that her arm muscles are on display. And Sonny- 

It’s not until Sonny crosses the finish line first and drops a hand to Lindsey’s thigh, squeezing it tightly in excitement, her eyes still on the screen- 

It’s not until Lindsey drives into the barrier as fire burns up her leg from where Sonny’s hand is squeezing it, warm with firm pressure and a little high, not that Sonny’s even aware because she’s so busy celebrating-

It’s then that it finally clicks, that Lindsey’s brain finally processes exactly what she’s been so very careful not to think. 

It’s then that Lindsey realizes that she’s fucked. 

  
  


She tries phone sex with Russell. She tries it because he’s not really bad with words and they’re far away and if he can turn her on like this, if he can turn her on long distance with just his voice and his words then maybe-

Maybe it doesn’t matter if she’s a little attracted to her best friend. Maybe it doesn’t matter if she’s got a small crush on a girl too. 

Because if he can get her off like this then she must love him. And if she’s willing to try this and he’s willing to try this then that’s a certain level of commitment. 

So she shuts her eyes and she slides her hand into her underwear and she tells him she’s naked, tells him she’s pinching her nipples, tells him she wants him thrusting into her. And she’s not really, and it feels a little awkward, but she says it anyway. 

She says it and she can hear him getting turned on. She can hear how his breathing gets a little heavier. She thinks maybe she can hear the way he’s rubbing himself. And it’s maybe a little nice to know that she can definitely turn him on like this, with not even that much. 

And he’s saying things too. He’s saying how hot she looks when she sucks him off. He’s saying how he loves her boobs. He’s saying how he’s gonna fuck her hard and fast next time. He’s asking if she’s wet. 

She says yes. 

She says yes and it’s a lie, and when he comes Lindsey pretends that she got there too. And he says thanks and she says no problem and when she says they should do it again soon she says yes and that’s a lie too. 

And when she hangs up, she sees she has a missed text from Sonny. 

She has a missed text from Sonny and she opens it, hand still in her underwear, fingers idly circling her clit in the hopes that she’ll still get there, that she’ll get some release just on physical touch alone. She opens the text and sees a picture of Sonny frowning as she points at a llama onesie and unicorn onesie and the caption reads, “Sometimes the hardest thing as an adult is deciding what to wear.” Sonny’s frowning and looking ridiculous, and there’s a hint of laughter in her eyes and her lips are a little pursed and-

Lindsey throws her phone across the bed and she turns her face into her pillow and when she comes, her fingers wet from her own juices rubbing a little frantically at her clit, she tells herself that it’s not Sonny’s face in her mind, not Sonny’s fingers she’s imagining between her legs. 

That’s the biggest lie of all. 

  
  


She feels guilty. She feels guilty and it’s not even like she’s really done anything. She’s just had thoughts. Not even all that willingly. She’s certainly been trying NOT to think certain thoughts. 

She feels guilty and really it’s not like she’s cheating. She hasn’t told Sonny. She would NEVER tell Sonny. She’s not an idiot. She’s not out to ruin the best friendship she’s ever had. It’s a little crush. Maybe not even a crush. Maybe it’s just like some physical attraction. Maybe it’s even just that her body is like craving an intense orgasm so she’s just latched onto Sonny as like someone who’s actually physically around and also is attractive, and once she gets properly, thoroughly fucked she’ll be fine. This, whatever it is, will all go away and she’ll go back to being happily in love with Russell. 

(She IS in love with him. She thinks. She’s almost sure. Well, she’s pretty sure she loves him at least. And they’ve been together a while. And he’s safe and he’s comfortable and he’s established and he’s not her best friend.)

She feels guilty that she’s having these thoughts about Sonny, too. Sonny would freak if she knew. It would make everything awkward. And it’s not like she wants that. Sonny is her best friend. They hang out every day. They tell each other everything. 

(Well, almost everything. Maybe even less these days. Maybe, definitely Lindsey’s list of secrets is growing.)

  
  


“Linds! Lindsey! Linessi! My most favoritest person ever!” Sonny says as she throws an arm around Lindsey’s shoulders and sways in a little too close, a little too in Lindsey’s face. 

She’s drunk. She’s always been a handsy drunk, and Lindsey’s never minded. Lindsey’s invited it, really. She’s always liked having Sonny in her space. She’s always liked the way it makes her feel a little warm, a little fuzzy, a lot loved. 

But that was before.

That was before she knew. Before she realized. Before she’d acknowledged just exactly what the feeling really meant. 

(That was before she’d gotten herself off every night for a week imagining Sonny naked and panting, imagining her moaning with her eyes shut as her body shook, imagining her looking up at her from between her legs with a smirk before-)

She feels hot and she feels flushed and she’s not entirely sober either, and suddenly having Sonny so close, so in her space feels dangerous in a way that it never has before. 

“Linessi, you know I love you, right?” Sonny informs her, bopping her on the nose with her finger. 

She tries to react normally. She wraps her arm around Sonny’s waist and she thinks of how she’d have responded before. She’d have smiled, right? She’s pretty sure she’d have smiled. So she does. She manages a smile, and then she says, “Yeah, I know,” because she does. 

She knows that Sonny loves her. 

She unfortunately also knows that she’s getting wet. Just from this. Just from the contact, and the proximity. Just from the way Sonny’s eyes are so blue and her lips are quirked up in that soft smile and her body is warm where it’s pressed into Lindsey’s side and-

“You love me too, right?” Sonny asks looking her right in the eye, expression suddenly serious. 

Lindsey pretends that her heart doesn’t stutter. She pretends that she doesn’t forget how to breathe for a second. “Of course!” she replies, her voice a little hoarse, a little strained. 

Sonny kisses her cheek. It’s firm and a little wet and definitely not the nicest kiss that Lindsey has ever been on the receiving end of, but it’s a little close to her mouth and it’s a lot given by Sonny, so her body reacts. Her eyes flutter shut and she feels a tension coil low in her stomach and she knows, she KNOWS she’s getting wet. Just from Sonny’s arm around her shoulders and Emily’s lips not quite on her lips and it’s all just-

She drops her arm and steps away and Sonny is left blinking at her in confusion. 

“Lindsey?” she asks. She sounds a little hurt, a little upset. 

That shot had been a bad idea. If she were a little more sober maybe she could think clearer, maybe she could control her reactions better. 

“I- I’ve gotta pee,” she stammers. 

She races to the bathroom and splashes cold water on her face and tries not to think about what it might be like to press Sonny up against one of the stall doors, what it might be like to have Sonny kiss her for real, what it might be like to fuck her with all of their teammates out in the bar nonethewiser. 

(What it might be like to fuck her with Russell nonethewiser. And that- 

That’s dangerous. It’s so very dangerous. 

She has a boyfriend. 

She loves him. 

Probably. 

She thinks.)

  
  


It’s like now that she’s had these thoughts, now that she’s allowed them into her brain once, she can’t turn it off. It’s like she’s turned on a tap but what came out was a waterfall and now there’s no going back. 

Now that she’s thought about Sonny in that way, she’s having trouble remembering how not to. 

It’s become a problem. 

It’s become a problem because she still sees Sonny every day. Sonny still comes over almost every day. They still change in the same locker room. They still play on the same field, on the same team. Sonny still touches her just as casually.

But now Sonny’s presence ties her stomach in knots. Now Sonny’s touch sets her skin on fire. Now Sonny in her place, in her space, makes her mind go to places it really, really shouldn’t. Not when Sonny’s there. Not when she’s still dating Russell. 

(She thinks she loves him. She’s not so sure. She should love him though. She really should.)

  
  


She visits Russell because that’s what girlfriends do. And she’s his girlfriend. She’s been his girlfriend. 

She visits Russell and tries not to be annoyed at the way that he falls asleep in two seconds when they climb into bed, snoring loudly. She tries not to let the way he picks at his teeth when he’s done with a meal bother her. She tries not to let the way he always has his hand on her lower back when they’re out somewhere frustrate her. (She’s not a possession, but when he does it she feels like she is.)

She visits Russell and she lets him fuck her in the bar bathroom. She lets him fuck her where they could get caught, like maybe it’s just the thrill, just the slightly less vanilla sex that has her body so excited. Maybe if she can get excited about him like that everything with Sonny will just go away. Maybe-

She tells herself it’s not cheating when every time they fuck, everytime she comes all weekend, it’s Sonny she’s imagining, eyes shut, teeth digging into her lip to keep herself from moaning a name that isn’t the one of the person she’s with. She tells herself it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t love him. 

(She tells herself it’s just lust with Sonny. It’s just infatuation. It’s not- It can’t be-

It’s just not.)

  
  


She avoids Sonny. 

She’s never, in the entire course of their friendship tried to avoid her, but she’s doing it now. 

She pretends she’s coming down with something when Sonny shows up at her door to hang out. She sticks to Tobin at practice. She texts Russell a little more often. She makes a point of trying to be available to Facetime when he’s free. 

She definitely, 100%, stops thinking about Sonny and sex in any way shape and form. 

Which means that when they go to camp and they get paired as roommates (because of course they get paired as roommates), that she hasn’t had an orgasm in the better part of a month. 

It means that when they go to camp and they get paired as roommates, that Sonny’s smile at her across the room is unsure, and Lindsey’s requests about which bed she’d like feels too formal. 

It means that when they go to camp and they get paired as roommates and there are no boyfriends allowed at camp that Lindsey has no excuses left and she feels like she’s going to explode. 

  
  


“Did I- Did I do something?” 

Sonny’s voice sounds so unsure, so upset, so worried, like it’s been eating away at her, like she hasn’t wanted to ask, but now, here, in the dark of their shared hotel room, after their first day at camp, she can’t not. 

It breaks Lindsey’s heart to hear Sonny’s voice sound like that. It’s nothing like how Sonny is supposed to sound. Her voice isn’t supposed to break like that. It isn’t supposed to sound so small. It breaks her heart.

(And maybe, really, she should think about what that might mean. Later. Not now. Not when they’re sharing a room.)

“No! No. Son, you didn’t do anything! Why?”

She knows why. She knows exactly why. But she asks anyway. 

“It just- I mean, maybe I’m imagining it, but it feels like you’ve been avoiding me recently.”

“That’s because I have,” her brain screams, but her mouth says, “I haven’t. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think that I have.”

Except she has. She has and she knows it and she wonders when exactly she started lying about absolutely everything. 

“Okay,” Sonny replies. She doesn’t sound convinced. She doesn’t sound like she believes Lindsey even a little. “If you say so,” she adds. 

“I do!” Lindsey lies. 

Her stomach is tying into knots and her heart is beating so hard in her chest that she’s not entirely sure that Emily won’t be able to hear it even over the whir of the air conditioner. 

“I’ve just been busy.”

“Okay,” Sonny repeats. It sounds hollow. It sounds hurt. It sounds-

It sounds like Lindsey isn’t doing enough. She KNOWS she isn’t doing enough.

And now she feels like she needs to fix it. 

She sits up. She sits up and she look across the dark hotel room where she can make out Sonny’s form, lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. 

It’s a bad idea. 

No, it’s a horrible idea. 

But her body is up and out of bed before she’s even begun to list all the reasons why. 

“Scoot,” she instructs from next to Sonny’s bed. 

Sonny looks at her in surprise. 

“Scoot,” Lindsey repeats, lifting up the covers and climbing into bed beside Sonny. 

She shouldn’t. Her body is already on fire and they’re not even touching. Just knowing that she’s in a bed with Sonny, both of them perfectly clothed in T-shirts and shorts, nothing technically inappropriate about it, is making her feel flushed all over. She’s glad for the darkness, knows it will hide her blush. 

And Sonny does scoot. She scoots to the far side of her bed and Lindsey lies down next to her and stares at the ceiling in the dark. She can practically feel the warmth radiating off of Sonny. Can feel her presence next to her without them even touching. It feels like a lot and not enough all at once and Lindsey feels frozen in place, wanting to reach out and recoil both. 

“You’re my best friend, Sonny.” She says it because she wants Sonny to know. She wants to remind her just how much she means to her. 

(She says it to remind herself. They’re best friends. They’re not more. There’s nothing more there. It’s just a bit of lust. She’ll get over it eventually.)

She hears Sonny shift beside her, but she doesn’t dare look. She doesn’t trust herself to look from this close. 

“So talk to me,” Sonny says. 

It sounds a little nervous, a little needy, and it tugs at Lindsey’s heart. 

“About what?” Lindsey asks, and there’s a crack in her voice. 

“About whatever is going on. About why you’ve been avoiding me. If- If I didn’t do anything, then-”

“You didn’t,” Lindsey reiterates. That at least is not a lie. That at least she can say with conviction. 

“Then what’s going on with you?”

Lindsey risks a glance. She risks turning her head to look at Sonny. 

Except that’s a mistake. That’s a mistake because as soon as she looks, she can’t look away. As soon as she looks she sees the way that Sonny has turned onto her side, the way that she’s staring right at her, face open, expectant, a little hopeful. (As soon as she looks she knows that lust is only a very small part of the problem.)

She opens her mouth, willing words to come to her, willing anything that might come across as reasonable to enter her mind so that she can say it, so that she can reassure Sonny, so that she can convince her that it’s not her. But no words come. 

“Sonny,” she says, her voice pleading. 

“If it’s not me then what is it?” And it’s clear now that Sonny doesn’t believe Lindsey, that she thinks she’s done something and not realized it, that Lindsey’s mad at her or upset with her or-

“It’s NOT you!” Lindsey says, rolling onto her side. “Sonny, it’s not! It’s-”

She swallows hard. They don’t talk about Russell. Not really. Not ever. She’s just- She’s never brought him up around Sonny. 

And maybe if she’d been a little smarter, if she’d thought about it a little bit, maybe she’d have realized there was a reason for it. 

But she didn’t until it was- Until-

Fuck, until it was this.

“It’s Russell,” Lindsey blurts. It’s not the truth. Not the whole truth. But it’s a reason. 

It’s a reason that’s not Sonny and so that’s what she says. 

And Sonny-

Sonny stares at her. It’s dark, but it’s not pitch-black and Lindsey can make out the way she recoils, just a little, can hear the way she kind of holds her breath, and for a moment, just a split second, she wonders if somehow it’s possible-

“What’d he do?” 

There’s something in the immediate assumption, in the implied accusation that makes Lindsey’s guilt feel worse, makes her feel like she needs to defend him. 

“Nothing! He’s great! He’s...sweet. And stable. And established.”

“See, this is why I am a hype woman and you are not,” Sonny says, and she sounds almost normal. 

Lindsey almost wants to laugh and shake off the awkwardness of the conversation and go back to pretending that everything is fine, but she knows Sonny. She knows that she masks true emotions with humor. She knows that she still isn’t convinced, that she still doesn’t believe that Lindsey isn’t mad at HER for some reason. 

And Lindsey’s not. She’s not remotely mad at Sonny. She’s mad at herself. Mad at the way that she can’t just be happy with what she has. Mad at the way she’s not sure anymore, if it’s really love with Russell. Mad at the way that she can’t stop thinking about her best friend, at the way that she’s already fucking everything up while trying so hard not to. 

So Lindsey doesn’t let herself get out of it. She doesn’t go back to her own bed. She doesn’t just laugh and change the subject. She says something real. Maybe just to prove to herself that she can, that she can deal in something other than lies. She blurts out a truth. 

“The sex is bad.” 

Sonny snorts, and then Lindsey can see, in the dark, the way her eyes go wide. “Wait really?”

Lindsey can feel the heat rising in her cheeks, knows that she’s blushing profusely. Of all the truths to blurt, why did she have to go with that one. 

“It wasn’t always,” she attempts to backpedal meekly. 

“So he suddenly got bad at it?” Sonny questions. 

“No, it’s more like...I don’t know,” Lindsey mumbles. It’s not like she can say, “It’s just that the prospect of sex with you is so much more enticing.” 

Sonny bites her lip, and then says in an almost cautious kind of way, “Does he- Do you- Does he make you come?” 

Lindsey doesn’t want to answer. She doesn’t really know what to answer. Technically she has had orgasms the last few times they’d had sex, but she’s not remotely delusional enough to think that she was coming because of him. It wasn’t the physical sensations that got her there, it was where her mind went during them, and where that was is definitely NOT something she can share with Sonny. “Sometimes,” she says in the end. It’s not technically a lie. 

“Oh, Linds.” The way Sonny says it, like she feels bad for her, like there’s actual pity, like that’s not at all how a relationship should be this far into it, makes Lindsey’s stomach churn. 

“I mean, I think it’s just gotten a little stagnant,” Lindsey attempts to explain, except for that’s not really it. That’s not it at all. 

“But, like, you love him, right?”

Part of Lindsey really wishes that she could see Sonny’s face better, that she could make out all the minute details of the way she’s holding her mouth, of the look in her eyes. Part of her really wishes that she could properly decipher the tone of voice that Sonny asks that with. 

(Part of her is really glad she can’t.) 

“I- He’s- We’ve been together forever.”

“Okaaaaay,” Sonny replies, and they’re both fully aware that Lindsey has not answered the question. 

“I mean, when you’re with someone for so long, obviously you- I mean, yeah, I...I do?” She doesn’t mean for it to come out like a question. She doesn’t mean to sound so fucking unsure. 

And Sonny doesn’t reply. Not right away. She bites her lip and she looks at Lindsey with that little furrow between her brows that she gets when she’s sad or when she’s thinking or when she’s unsure, and Lindsey-

Fuck, she’s not sure she’s breathing properly anymore. Suddenly Sonny feels way too close and everything feels way too out in the open and Lindsey can’t quite breathe, but she can’t move away either. 

And then Sonny’s hand is on her arm, tentatively at first, but when she doesn’t flinch away the touch becomes surer, firmer. “Lindsey?” Sonny says. 

“Mm?” Lindsey replies, not trusting her voice. The touch is so small, but Lindsey feels it through her entire body. 

“I know we don’t talk about him a lot, but you can tell me anything, okay? Anything you want to talk about. Bad sex or great sex or no sex or just inescurities or minor annoyances or like the best dates ever. Whatever it is you can tell me. I won’t judge you. Okay?”

Lindsey’s heart is racing. It’s racing so fast in her chest that she’s not sure she can identify individual beats anymore because it’s more like a solid hum. Her heart is racing and her palms are sweaty and she’s not sure she can make her mouth work properly, so she manages a slight nod instead. 

“And I mean I don’t just mean Russell. Anytime anything’s going on with you you can tell me, okay? You’re my best friend and I care about you so much. All I want is for you to be happy.” Sonny pulls her in. She pulls her in and she holds her tightly in a hug and Lindsey can’t do anything but hug her back, but tuck her chin over Sonny’s shoulder and breathe in her shampoo, but wrap an arm around her back and hold on like if she lets go she might drown. “I love you,” Sonny murmurs into Lindsey’s neck. 

Lindsey’s entire stomach seizes up, her chest is so very tight. When she croaks out, “I love you, too,” it feels like the truest thing she’s said all night. 

  
  


She wants things to go back to normal. She wants to go back to laughing with Sonny on the field and getting roped in to stupid dance routines with Sonny and Rose and Sammy. She wants to go back to being able to talk to Sonny without dissecting her own sentences in her head first. She wants to go back to being able to see her best friend and not think about all the times she’s imagined her naked, imagined her on her back with legs spread, imagined how she might look with Lindsey’s fingers inside her, what she might taste like, what she might sound like when she comes. 

Instead she sits beside Kelley and shoves her out to join the dance routines and laughs while making eye contact with Sammy instead of Sonny. Instead she talks with Tobin and practices nutmegging people and she works on headers with Julie. Instead she agonizes over each word, hoping that Sonny doesn’t notice, hoping that Sonny can’t tell that she never quite looks her in the eyes anymore. 

She can’t avoid her like she was, but she’s not exactly being there the way she was before all of this either. 

But Sonny’s trying. Lindsey can tell that Sonny’s trying. She asks how Russell is after Lindsey hangs up quickly with him when Sonny comes back to their room after getting some food with Mal. She sits down beside her at meals with a smile and a joke and doesn’t comment if Lindsey’s answering smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She checks in with her at least once a day. 

And Lindsey tries, too. She tries to give honest answers. She trains her body to not flinch when Sonny touches her. She trains her mind to think of anything besides Sonny naked, besides Sonny kissing her, besides Sonny making her feel things that Russell never has. 

Lindsey tries, but she feels like she’s a weak swimmer struggling against the world’s strongest undertow. She tries, but she knows it’s not nearly enough, and one of these days something is going to crack. 

  
  


They go out to dinner as a team on their first rest day. They go out to dinner and Sonny sits across from her and Kelley sits right beside Sonny. They go out to dinner and Lindsey ends up flanked by Tobin on one side and Rose on the other. They go out to dinner and the restaurant is nice and there are candles on the table and the lighting is dim and Sonny leaves her hair down and puts on a little makeup and wears this pale pink V-neck over ripped jeans. They go out to dinner and Lindsey can’t stop staring. 

She can’t stop staring at the way Sonny’s eyes gleam in the candlelight or the way that her hair looks so silky and soft and inviting. She can’t stop staring at the way that Emily’s fingers look curled around her water glass or the way her throat looks so damn kissable when she throws her head back and laughs at whatever Kelley’s just said. She can’t stop staring and she can’t stop thinking how much she wants to be next to Sonny, be able to whisper in her ear, be able to hear everything she’s saying without craning her neck over the table, be able to feel her reactions the way that Kelley can right now. 

She can’t stop staring and she can’t stop thinking and Sonny notices. 

Lindsey sees the exact moment that Sonny notices because her eyes, that had been dancing with laughter just a moment before, catch hers, and then suddenly they’re sharp and focussed. Suddenly her lips that had been pulled back into a smile are thin and pursed together. Lindsey knows exactly when Sonny notices because then Sonny starts staring back at her too, watching, curious. 

Sonny notices and Lindsey’s cheeks flush and Lindsey forgets how to breathe possibly. 

Sonny notices and Lindsey knows, she KNOWS, that everything is going to go to hell.

  
  


Sonny’s quiet on the way back to the hotel. 

Lindsey doesn’t want to say that Sonny never shuts up, but it’s unusual that she’s this quiet. It’s unnerving. 

She’s quiet in the elevator up to their floor. 

She’s quiet as they wave goodnight to their teammates and head towards their room. 

She’s quiet as they make their way down the hall and pause in front of their door. 

She’s quiet as she slips her keycard out of her pocket and unlocks it. 

She’s quiet as she holds the door open for Lindsey to enter the room first. 

She’s so very quiet as she follows in behind Lindsey and her silence is so very loud. It’s deafening. It’s driving Lindsey insane. It’s making her want to burst. It’s making her want to say something, say anything. 

“Em, SAY something.” She doesn’t call her Em very often. Usually only during especially serious conversations and occasionally when they’re really drunk. She doesn’t know why she uses the name now, but it slips out and when she looks at Sonny for a reaction, she sees Sonny’s eyes on hers, watching, curious, thoughtful. 

“Like what?” Sonny asks. 

“I don’t know, but it’s weird you being so quiet!” Lindsey tries to play it off like a joke, tries to act like she’s teasing, like everything’s normal, like everything’s fine. 

“Weird like you not looking me in the eyes once all camp, but then not looking away from me at dinner?” Sonny shoots back. 

And it’s there. It’s confirmation of everything Lindsey’s hoped Sonny hasn’t noticed, but knows she has. 

Lindsey’s mouth goes dry and her cheeks flush and she tries to come up with a comeback, tries to think of a reasonable explanation that isn’t the truth, but instead all that comes out is, “I- I-”

Sonny looks at her, she waits, eyebrows raised, hands on hips. “Yes?” she prompts when Lindsey isn’t more forthcoming with an answer. 

Lindsey looks around. She looks at the horrible popcorn ceiling and the circular pattern on the carpet. She looks at the wallpaper and the emergency map on the door. She looks anywhere but at Sonny, as if the answer she needs is hidden somewhere in the room, waiting for her to find it.

“Lindsey, I don’t know what’s going on with you, and if you don’t tell me, I can’t do anything about it, but I’m getting kind of tired of you pretending. I know it’s not Russell. Or it’s not JUST him. I know that something else is going on, and I don’t know WHY you won’t just tell me, but-”

“I can’t.”

Sonny’s mouth snaps shut and her eyes narrow and she looks so confused and a little bit hurt and Lindsey hates it. She hates it so much. 

She steps towards Sonny even as her mind is telling her to back away, and she repeats, “I can’t.” It sounds like she’s pleading. It sounds like she’s begging Sonny to let her get away with it, to let this answer slide, to go back to pretending. 

But Sonny is done pretending. “Why NOT, Linds? Because- I really thought- God, I just want you to be happy and I want you to trust me because I care about you so damn much, and-”

“BECAUSE!” Lindsey shouts. It’s too loud. It’s too sudden. It startles even her. And she shouldn’t continue. She shouldn’t say ANY of the things that are running through her mind right now, but she whispers, “Because you’re the one person I can’t tell.”

Sonny freezes. She freezes in place and she looks at Lindsey. She looks her dead in the eye, and Lindsey feels her blush spreading down her neck and across her chest. She feels the dryness in her mouth spreading down her throat. She feels the way her hands are clammy where they’re clenched into fists at her side. 

And then Sonny steps towards her, her eyes focused, her voice low and a little dangerous as she asks, “Why not?” 

Lindsey swallows hard, trying to shake the dryness. She licks her lips as her heart hammers in her chest. 

Sonny takes another step, and another. “Why not, Linds?” she asks again. 

She’s close now. She’s so close. It wouldn’t take much- 

All Lindsey would need to do is reach out-

All she’d need to do-

Lindsey’s eyes dip to Sonny’s lips, pale pink, a little glossy, and so very inviting. 

Sonny steps again, and Lindsey can feel Sonny’s breath hitting her face, can make out each line of her lips, can trace each freckle across her nose, can feel the heat radiating from her. 

“Sonny,” Lindsey whimpers, begging, pleading for her to leave it, for her to leave her, for her to just let this go. 

“Why can’t you tell ME, Lindsey?” Sonny asks.

She doesn’t mean to. It isn’t planned. It’s not like she’s thinking that this is 100% what she needs to do, what she wants to do. (And it’s definitely not what she SHOULD do.) 

She doesn’t mean to, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t do it. 

Her fingers thread through Sonny’s hair, and it’s every bit as silky as it looks, and her eyes flutter shut as she leans in, as she pulls Sonny to her. Her eyes flutter closed and her lips slam into Sonny’s and then they’re kissing and Lindsey’s stomach flips and it feels like the floor is slipping out from under her. 

There’s a small gasp, and Lindsey isn’t completely sure if it comes from Sonny or from her, but she doesn’t really have time to wonder because then Sonny is kissing her back. 

She’s kissing her back and her lips are soft but the pressure is not, and the way her tongue swipes into Lindsey’s mouth is demanding and needy all at once. Sonny’s kissing her and walking her back until her back hits the wall, and then Sonny’s pressing up into her and Sonny’s hands are on her hips and Sonny’s body is solid and warm against hers. 

Sonny’s kissing her and Lindsey’s entire body is on fire and her stomach is doing flip after flip and she’s getting wet just from so little. 

Sonny’s kissing her and it’s so much more than anything she’s ever felt with Russell. It’s so much more than she’s ever felt with ANYONE. 

It’s so much and Lindsey can’t take it. 

She pushes Sonny away with a firm hand on her shoulder, and she stares at her. She stares at the way the her lips look a little red, a little swollen. She stares at the way her hair is messy where Lindsey’s fingers had tangled in it. She stares at the heavy rise and fall of Sonny’s chest as she pants. 

She stares and then she thinks, and at least one of those things is a mistake because then it hits her. 

“Fuck!”

“Linds, don’t freak out,” Sonny says, hands reaching out, soothing, calming, but so close, too close. 

“Fuck! I just kissed you!” Lindsey runs her hands through her hair, pulling a little. 

She paces past Sonny, faces away from her, closes her eyes and tries to picture Russell’s face, tries to think about how she feels about him, how sweet he is, how his lips feel on her cheek, how his smile is so nice. She closes her eyes and tries to think of Russell, but all she does is replay the kiss over and over again in her mind. All she thinks is how she wants to do it again. She NEEDS to do it again. All she thinks is-

“I kissed you and you kissed me back!”

Sonny doesn’t answer. Lindsey can feel her nervous energy behind her, but Sonny says nothing. 

When Lindsey turns around and looks, Sonny is worrying her lip between her teeth, eyes unsure, eyes maybe a little guilty. 

“Linds, I’ve wanted- I’ve hoped-”

“Fuck!” Lindsey declares again. “I have a boyfriend! I have- I have a boyfriend and I love him! I have a boyfriend and I SHOULD love him! God!” 

Lindsey doubles over. She puts her hands on her knees and and she looks at her feet and she breathes deep heaving breaths and it still doesn’t feel like she’s getting enough oxygen. 

“Lindsey,” Sonny says again, her voice small, wavering, full of emotion that Lindsey REALLY doesn’t want to decipher right now. 

She can’t stay here. She can’t stay in this room. If she stays in this room with Sonny, having KISSED Sonny, she’s going to- She’s gonna-

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do. 

She grabs her backpack and she shoves some clothes in it and goes to the bathroom and grabs her toothbrush and her moisturizer and Sonny lets her. Sonny watches with sad eyes as she moves around, packing haphazardly. 

“Lindsey,” Sonny says again, her voice breaking. 

“I have a boyfriend and I should love him,” Lindsey repeats. And then she finally looks at Sonny again. She sees the way that her eyes are filling with tears, she sees the pleading look on her face, and then she sees the way her lips are still so obviously just kissed and the guilt cuts through her like a knife. “Fuck! I have a boyfriend and I should love him. I shouldn’t be in love with you!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Lindsey gets fucked (and her life gets more fucked up in the process).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay @ whoever commented that it would be at least 3 chapters...fine. You're right. Chapter 3 may not be as long as the first 2 though.   
Anyway, there's more angst this chapter, but I do promise a happy ending at the end of the story. Enjoy!  
xx

She stays with Tobin and Ali and they don’t ask her any questions. They don’t ask why she’s suddenly shown up at their door, eyes rimmed red, hair a mess, lips a little swollen. They don’t ask why she’s not staying with Sonny in her assigned hotel room. They don’t ask, they just make room for her. Tobin shares her bed and holds her close when her shoulder shake with tears she knows she has no right to cry. 

Lindsey stays with Tobin and Ali for three nights and at training and team meetings and strategy sessions she stays as far away from Sonny as possible. 

Lindsey stays with Tobin and Ali for three nights and she only goes to her room to grab stuff when she knows that Sonny’s elsewhere. 

She doesn’t text Russell. She doesn’t call him. She can’t. 

She doesn’t talk to Sonny. She doesn’t look at her. And Sonny seems like she’s finally avoiding Lindsey too. 

Lindsey stays with Tobin and Ali for three nights and she focuses on nothing but soccer during the day (or she TRIES to, at least). 

Lindsey stays with Tobin and Ali for three nights and then she cracks. 

  
  


“Lindsey?” Sonny’s voice is a little high pitched and a lot surprised, and Lindsey just came to talk. That’s all she wanted to do was talk. 

Because they NEED to talk. They need to talk because they need to be able to function. They’re teammates. They’re at camp. They can’t just never interact. 

All she came to do was talk, but the second that Sonny opens the door, the second that she lets herself look, the second that she looks into Sonny’s eyes and sees all of the emotion there, she can’t talk at all. 

She can’t talk at all and she’s not even sure she wants to because really what she wants (what she’s been wanting) is to kiss Sonny again. 

So she does. 

This time Lindsey pins Sonny against the wall, swallowing down her surprised yelp. This time it’s Lindsey who swipes her tongue into Sonny’s mouth, needy and wanting. This time it’s Sonny’s fingers that tangle in her hair. 

This time it’s Sonny who pushes her away, hand firm on her shoulder. It’s Sonny who stands there, stunned, panting, fingers touching her lips, eyes taking Lindsey in. 

Lindsey can feel a familiar panic rising. She can feel the way her heart is pounding too hard, too wild. She can feel the way her palms feel a little clammy. She can feel-

God, she can feel the way her body is practically aching for Sonny. 

“Lindsey,” Sonny murmurs and it sounds almost pained. 

Lindsey doesn’t want her to feel pained. She wants her to-

She wants to make her feel  _ good _ . 

“Don’t- Em…” Lindsey swallows hard. It feels like she’s precariously balancing on a tiny ledge between two cliffs. On the one side is Russell. On the other is Sonny. The way back is blocked and if she goes forward she will plunge off one side or the other, she just has to pick. Except she’s not sure she can make the choice. She’s not sure she can step off this small ledge. She’s not sure anyone will really catch her on either side. 

“You have a-”

Lindsey cuts her off before she can finish the sentence. She grabs her hand and pulls her to her and looks her in the eyes. 

Maybe it’s not a choice at all. Maybe it’s an inevitability. 

She kisses her again, hard and deep, and then a little slower, a little softer as Sonny’s lips move against hers. 

“Fuck,” Sonny whimpers, and Lindsey wraps her arms around Sonny’s waist and pulls her in closer. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sonny gasps into her mouth. 

And then it feels like maybe Sonny’s made a choice too, because she’s pushing Lindsey back into the room, pushing her down on the bed, and straddling her, looking down, eyes a little wild. 

Sonny shakes her head and bites her lip and says, “Fuck this is such a bad idea.” 

And Lindsey says, “Kiss me, please.” 

And Sonny does. 

  
  


Lindsey feels hot all over. Her skin tingles everywhere that Sonny touches and her stomach is doing flip after flip. 

It’s almost like she’s never been properly touched before the way her body is reacting, just to the smallest things. Just to the way that Sonny flicks her tongue lightly across her nipple, or the press of Sonny’s thumb into her hip, or the trailing of her fingers up her thigh. 

And when Sonny’s fingers finally slide up and through her, when they dip into the wetness that is already so much that it’s coating the tops of her thighs, Lindsey can’t stop the gasp at how much it is, almost too much already. 

Sonny works her up with a steady rhythm, pressing kisses into her skin, thumb rubbing over her clit, and it feels like no time at all before she’s crashing over the edge with the hardest orgasm she ever remembers having, nails digging into Sonny’s back, moaning, “Em! Fuck! Emily!” into the crook of Sonny’s neck. 

She thinks it’s done. If it was Russell it would be done. 

But then Sonny brings her down slow, fingers sliding in and out almost gently. And then Sonny is kissing down her throat, and across her breasts. Then Sonny is sliding her fingers all the way out, glancing up with a wicked smirk as she licks them clean and Lindsey’s entire body spasms again. Then Sonny is licking and kissing down her stomach, across her hips, and down. 

At the first lick of Sonny’s tongue through her, Lindsey bucks her hips off the bed, her eyes slamming shut. She feels the pressure of Sonny’s arm across her hips, holding her down, feels the vibrations of a chuckle running through her, putting her already on edge. And then there’s a second lick and a third, and then Lindsey loses count. Sonny makes her feel things with her mouth that she hadn’t known it was possible to feel, and if she weren’t so busy feeling so fucking good she might be a little embarrassed with the way that she’s grinding herself onto Sonny’s mouth, with the way that she’s practically begging for more, with the way she can’t stop moaning and swearing and saying, “Em! Emily! Em! Oh my God!” 

And then she can’t think at all about anything because it’s like someone has set off fireworks inside her body, and her eyes roll back and her legs shake as she comes again, this orgasm even more powerful than the last. 

  
  


When she comes down from her second orgasm, she feels shy. 

Sonny’s lips and cheeks and chin are wet, her hair is messy from Lindsey’s fingers threading through it. Lindsey knows, she KNOWS that she’s never been this needy in bed in all her life. She sees the way Sonny’s tongue lips her licks, sees the way she wipes herself clean a little, sees the twinge of pink on Sonny’s cheeks. 

And then she sees the way her eyes are kind of dark, sweeping over Lindsey’s body, sees the way she’s squirming on the bed, sees the want there, and Lindsey realizes that Sonny has made her feel things she’s never felt, but she still has barely touched Sonny. 

Except she doesn’t know how. 

With guys it’s easy. With guys they just want to be sucked and fucked. (She doesn’t think about the more specific, she doesn’t think his name.) 

Lindsey reaches out tentatively, and Sonny doesn’t respond, not at first, as Lindsey’s hand falls to her thigh just above her knee. 

And then Sonny is saying, “You don’t have to,” at the same time that Lindsey says, “Tell me how?” and somehow just the idea that Sonny thinks- That it’s a thought that’s already crossed her mind that she won’t get anything out of this, that it’s okay, that she’s given and that’s enough- The idea that she’s willing to give and get nothing back, when HE would never dream of- When he doesn’t even always know that Lindsey hasn’t-

Lindsey pulls Sonny into a kiss and murmurs, “Want to,” against her lips. She flips Sonny onto her back, pressing her thigh between Sonny’s legs, and she feels wetness there. She’s done that, she realizes. She’s turned Sonny on, too. Somewhere in this needy, desperate exchange, Sonny has found her attractive enough to get aroused, to get wet. Sonny’s gotten some pleasure from getting Lindsey off. It feels like a rush of power, knowing that, and Lindsey wants to do more. She wants to make Sonny feel so, so good. She wants to be an equal partner in this exchange. 

She bites her lip, and then manages to say, “Tell me how to make you feel good.”

  
  


She doesn’t really know if she’s doing it right. She doesn’t know if her fingers are hitting the right way, if their pace is right, and it feels like her kisses over Sonny’s skin are a little bit too frantic, a little bit too linear. 

She’s starting to overanalyze it, to stress about each movement, each touch. 

But then Sonny’s hand reaches out for her, finds hers blindly, laces their fingers together, and Sonny is arching into her touch. Sonny’s letting out these soft moans as she pants and Lindsey remembers that it had felt amazing, like Sonny was touching parts of her that no one ever had before, when she curled her fingers, so Lindsey tries it too. 

And then Sonny’s moans aren’t soft at all. 

Lindsey’s heard Sonny swear before, but never like this. Never uncontrolled and nonsensical like she can’t finish a complete thought. Sonny’s hips are rising to meet her thrusts now, and she can feel Sonny starting to clamp down on her fingers, and she feels Sonny’s hand squeeze hers. 

And then Sonny is saying, “Lindsey! Fuck! Linds, kiss me baby! Please kiss me!”

And that’s- 

Wow. 

That hits different. 

And Lindsey has to oblige. Has to shift so that she’s kissing Sonny full on the lips again, so that Sonny is panting into her mouth. 

And Lindsey says, “Say it again.”

And Sonny-

Sonny’s eyes are closed and her breathing is erratic and her hips are rising to meet her more and more frantically, and she’s half biting at her lip, half trying to kiss her back, and Sonny moans, “Fuck, baby, I’m coming,” as Lindsey feels her pulse around her fingers. 

It’s enough to bring Lindsey back to the edge, to make the tension curl low and hot in her stomach, and she finds herself grinding down on Sonny’s leg, rubbing against her, trying to get herself off one more time even as Sonny is still coming down from her own orgasm. 

And then Sonny’s eyes are opening and she’s smirking up at Lindsey and she’s bending her leg just so, and it’s hitting with a lot more pressure now as Lindsey bears down on her thigh. 

Lindsey slides her fingers out of Sonny and she braces herself against the mattress and she’s rubbing against Sonny’s thigh now slick with her juices, and Lindsey begs, “Again. Call me that again.”

And for a split second Sonny looks confused, but then she’s kissing her and whispering hot in Lindsey’s ear, “Come for me again, baby. God you’re so fucking hot when you come, Linds! Want you to come for me again, baby, please!” 

And Lindsey’s coming again, collapsing onto Sonny, biting down hard on her lip, fingers tightening in the sheets. 

Lindsey’s coming again all over Sonny’s thigh, and she can already feel the embarrassment coloring her cheeks because nobody, not ever, has made her come like this, has made her want like this, has completely undone her three times in a single night. 

  
  


When she rolls off of Sonny, she can feel her cheeks burning and she buries her face in a pillow and tries not to think about the fact that she’s still naked, she’s still sticky between her legs, she’s just come harder than she ever has with someone who-

Someone who’s not Russell. 

Someone who’s not her boyfriend. 

Someone she-

“Linds?” Sonny’s voice sounds small, unsure, and Lindsey hates the way it cracks, hates that she’s the cause of it. 

She doesn’t respond. She feels tears prick at her eyes and she shuts them tight and presses her face harder into the pillow. 

“Lindsey…Talk to me. Look at me.” It’s pleading and a little desperate and it tugs at Lindsey’s heart, but she just shakes her head. 

And then there are fingers pressing into her shoulder, tentative at first, and then they slide down her arm, firmer, surer. And then Sonny’s pressing soft kisses into her shoulder, into her back, that are so soothing, so sweet-

So much more than she deserves. 

So she rolls onto her back to make them stop, but then she’s looking up at Sonny who’s watching her with sharp blue eyes and biting at her lip. 

And, God, they’re both still naked, and Lindsey can’t stop the way her eyes trail down over Sonny’s breasts, over her hard nipples, over the defined muscles of her stomach, following the v down hungrily to the neatly trimmed soft curl of dark blonde hairs. 

She licks her lips and she wonders what Sonny tastes like, if she’ll like it, if she should-

But then Sonny is pulling a sheet over both of them, tucking it around Lindsey carefully, and looking back into her eyes. 

“You don’t want me to-” Lindsey starts to ask, but Sonny shakes her head. 

“Not tonight. Not- Another time? I’d really- Fuck, Linds, I really want you to, but we- I mean you- We just-”

Lindsey nods, lets her eyes close, wills the thoughts out of her head. “I don’t want to deal with it.”

“With the fact that we just had sex? Or the fact that you have a boyfriend?”

The words are sharp and stinging, like a slap to the face, and they contradict so harshly with Sonny’s fingers trailing gently over her arm, tracing invisible patterns into her skin. 

“Sonny,” she sighs. 

She shakes her head and forces herself to open her eyes. She knows Sonny doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve to be used. She’s not just something for Lindsey to derive physical pleasure from, and if they’re going- If there’s any hope at all-

They’re going to have to talk about it. 

“What was this?”

Sonny’s fingers still on Lindsey’s arm and her voice sounds so unsure, so close to breaking, that Lindsey has to reach out, has to take her hand in her own and squeeze it tight. 

Except she doesn’t have an answer. Not a good one. Not a clear one. 

“I don’t know,” she admits, her voice coming out as a croak. 

Sonny bites her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth, her eyes focusing hard on where Lindsey’s holding her hand. 

“I don’t want to be someone’s side fling. I don’t want to be YOUR side fling. Lindsey, I’ve-” Sonny closes her eyes and breathes in a deep, shuddery breath. “I’ve liked you for so long, and I know I shouldn’t have let this happen, but- What you said the other night...The love thing. Do you think you meant it?”

When Sonny’s eyes open again, Lindsey finds that she can’t meet them. Her head is reeling, and she’s clutching Sonny’s hand a little tighter, like if she lets go maybe she’ll drift away, swallowed by the tide. 

“I should love him,” she whispers, and she feels Sonny recoil, feels her hand start to pull from her own, but Lindsey tightens her grip more. “But I don’t think I do.”

Sonny relaxes. A little. 

“Em, I can’t deal with all of this tonight, but you- You’re my best friend, and I love you, I just- I’m working out how, and this was- It shouldn’t have happened, and this probably makes me a horrible person to say, but I don’t regret that it did, that you- That I just-” Lindsey’s words falter and she can feel a blush rising in her cheeks. “I think maybe I meant it,” she finally concludes, but I don’t know right now.”

Sonny nods. She looks like she wants to say something, like something is just on the tip of her tongue, and then she sets her jaw and it’s like she’s made a decision. “Okay.”

Lindsey isn’t quite sure what the okay means, but she doesn’t want to press it. 

Technically, she knows, she’s just cheated on her boyfriend. Technically she’s just slept with her best friend, her teammate. Technically things could not be more messy. 

Technically there’s no boyfriends at camp. 

“We should probably get dressed,” Lindsey murmurs. “And get sleep.” 

Sonny nods. She’s up and out of the bed remarkably fast, and Lindsey feels a little cold, a little exposed, even with the sheet still up over her. 

“Will you- Can you sleep in my bed with me tonight? As my best friend?”

Sonny hesitates, but only for a second, and then she’s offering Lindsey a soft smile. “Yeah. Sure, Linessi. 

Lindsey breathes out relief that she’s sure she doesn’t deserve and she replies. “Thanks, Dasani. You’re the best.”

  
  


When she curls up in bed with Sonny, the lights off and Sonny warm and soft against her chest, she tells herself that just for tonight she can pretend. Just for tonight she’ll wrap an arm around Sonny and hold her close. Just for tonight she’ll pretend that this is the person who is meant to be in her arms, that there’s nothing wrong with this, that they haven’t done anything bad. 

Just for tonight she’ll pretend that this isn’t all about to blow up in her face. 

  
  


They don’t talk about it. 

Camp happens and they share a room and they take turns brushing their teeth and they trade off who gets the first shower and they pretend like they haven’t seen each other naked, like they haven’t made each other shake and moan. 

(Lindsey pretends like she doesn’t want it to happen again and again.)

There are no boyfriends at camp and Sonny’s not her boyfriend, she’s not her girlfriend either, but it still feels forbidden, like they can’t, like they shouldn’t. 

(And Lindsey knows, she KNOWS that it’s not that they’re at camp that should make it not allowed. She KNOWS that she has other reasons she should find more pressing. But she hasn’t taken a call from Russell in days and she isn’t sure she misses talking to him at all and that- 

She doesn’t think she should have a boyfriend at all.)

  
  


They don’t talk about it at camp, but camp is ending and they’re about to fly home, fly away from one set of teammates to another. They’re about to head out of their national team bubble where they let it happen and back to their real lives. 

Lindsey feels like she should have anxiety bubbling so close beneath the surface that it’s overwhelming. She feels like she should be a nervous wreck. 

Instead she feels eerily calm. She feels calm as she packs her stuff and calm as she says goodbye to a few friends she won’t see in the morning because their flights out are so early. She even feels calm when she gets a text from Russell reading, “I’ve missed you. So glad you’re finally done with camp.”

(She doesn’t text him back. Not tonight.)

She feels calm right up until she closes the door behind her and looks at Sonny sitting on the edge of her bed, digging through her backpack, and then she feels something else. 

“Em?”

Sonny looks up, and maybe what she wants is written all over her face because Sonny’s eyes go wide, and she drops her backpack onto the floor, abandoning whatever she was looking for. “Linds?”

She moves quickly to her and only hesitates for a second before straddling her lap, and Sonny looks a little awed as she looks up at her, as if she can’t quite believe this is actually happening, even though they’ve already done so much more than this. 

“Linds, what-”

Lindsey kisses her. She kisses her because maybe they haven’t talked about it and maybe Lindsey has been trying to focus on soccer, but the truth is that she’s been thinking about kissing Sonny again since they climbed out of bed after having sex for the first time. 

But Sonny ducks her head and turns her face, her cheek pressed against Lindsey’s chest. “Lindsey, I can’t.”

“Oh.” Lindsey feels silly now. She feels foolish. Maybe she hadn’t talked to Sonny about it because she’d felt like camp wasn’t the appropriate place, like things were temporarily on pause, but that didn’t mean that Sonny had avoided the subject for the same reason. Maybe Sonny had thought about it and decided that this wasn’t something she wanted, maybe she’d realized that she didn’t like Lindsey like that, that she didn’t want her, that it was a mistake.

And here Lindsey had been thinking- Had thought- If she left him then- 

Lindsey can’t climb off of Sonny’s lap fast enough. She can’t get out of the room fast enough. 

Except that Sonny is on her feet in a flash and grabbing her wrist, holding her shoulders, turning her to face her. 

“Lindsey, I can’t be some physical relief for you before you run back to your boyfriend,” Sonny says. 

“Right. Yeah. I’m sorry. I’ll go-”

“LINDSEY!”

And Lindsey looks at her. She forces herself to drag her eyes up and look into Sonny’s. 

“Lindsey, I can’t just be that because I HATE seeing you with him. I hate HIM. He’s- You deserve so much better, and I’m not necessarily saying that’s me, because I full on helped you cheat and that’s- But Lindsey if I do this with you- If I keep letting this happen without us ever talking, without knowing properly how you’re feeling about me and about him and- I CAN’T, Lindsey. I can’t because it wouldn’t take very much at all for me to fall in love with you and you’re my BEST FRIEND and I can’t risk that. I- I shouldn’t have risked that as much as I have.”

Sonny drops her hands from Lindsey’s shoulders and drops her gaze to the floor. Lindsey watches the way that Sonny’s fingers worry at the hem of her T-shirt, she lets Sonny’s words sink into her, actually hearing what she’s saying, and she feels something in her chest tug, feels-

“I feel like I need to break up with him in person,” she blurts. 

Sonny stills. She doesn’t look back up at her, but her eyes find some sort of middle ground, focusing somewhere just above Lindsey’s knees. 

“Break up…?” There’s a hopeful hint in Sonny’s voice. 

And, God, Lindsey hadn’t actually said those words before. She hadn’t actually thought them, even. Not exactly like that. Not so clearly. 

All of the anxiety that she’d expected before hits her square in the chest and it’s suffocating. 

She leans back against the wall for support, unsure if her legs will hold her if she doesn’t. Has her chest always felt this tight? She doesn’t remember it feeling so tight. Sucking in air isn’t supposed to be hard, right? It’s not supposed to feel like a chore. She’s pretty sure-

But then Sonny’s lips are soft against hers and it’s a focal point, something to ground her. 

She kisses back and then she breathes in and it feels just the littlest bit easier. 

“Lindsey…”

“I’m not in love with him,” Lindsey says, and it’s the first time she’s admitted that, too. It’s the first time she’s really let herself think it, but with Sonny’s fingers cupping her cheek it’s a little easier to process. “I don’t...I don’t even know if I love him. He’s just...I’ve been dating him so long and it’s like he’s comfortable and he’s safe and you’re-”

She feels rather than hears Sonny’s sharp intake of breath. 

“I’m…?” Sonny prompts when Lindsey doesn’t continue right away. 

Lindsey meets her gaze, sees beautiful blue eyes filled with hope, sees-

“Dangerous,” Lindsey admits. “You feel dangerous.”

“Oh.”

“In a good way. In- God, Sonny-” Lindsey turns away. She takes a step. She needs a little distance. She can’t think properly so close to Sonny, with her whole body humming in response to her. “When I’m with you, you make me feel things that nobody else ever has and it makes me think- How long have I been lying to myself?”

She feels Sonny’s hand heavy on her shoulder. 

“You want to break up with him?” Sonny’s voice is small, unsure, and Lindsey hates it. 

“Yes,” she says, making a decision she feels like she’s been building towards for a while without ever properly thinking about it. 

And then Sonny is kissing her again. She’s kissing her and she’s pushing her down slowly onto the bed. She’s stripping off her T-shirt and, OH, she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. She’s straddling her on the bed, half naked, and Lindsey’s mouth has gone dry and her eyes can’t help but trace hungrily over Sonny, and then Sonny’s kissing her again and again and again. 

  
  


It wasn’t a fluke. That’s Lindsey’s first thought as Sonny’s fingers run through her, teasing her, dipping in just the tips before moving to trace a loose circle around her clit. The feelings she’d had the first time weren’t a fluke. Sonny’s touch-

It’s like magic. It’s like every time her fingers or her lips or her tongue press into her skin she feels it EVERYWHERE. 

And Sonny’s taking her time. She’s kissing down Lindsey’s throat. She’s trailing her fingers, a little wet now, back over Lindsey’s hips. She’s scraping her teeth across Lindsey’s collarbone, soothing the skin a moment later with her tongue. 

And Lindsey- 

Lindsey’s on fire. Lindsey is aching for it. Aching to be touched, to be kissed, to have more. She’s arching into each kiss and moaning at each touch and grabbing at the sheets like there’s any possible way to ground her when Sonny is doing THAT to her. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” Sonny asks, dipping a finger back through Lindsey’s folds. 

And Lindsey knows she knows. She knows she can feel just how wet she is for her. She knows, but then Sonny says, “baby” like that, and all Lindsey can do is gasp out, “So good. Em- So fucking good. I need you!”

And Sonny smiles into her skin, pressing kisses that are still far too lazy, far too slow, and it’s a little maddening, but at the same time-

No one has ever taken their time with her before. Nobody has ever bothered to tease, and Lindsey thinks- 

No, she KNOWS, that this is something she likes. This is-

Sonny is already helping her unlock parts of herself that she didn’t even know about because nobody had ever bothered, and if she wasn’t so incredibly turned on right now, so incredibly needy, maybe she’d feel a little self-conscious, maybe she’d realize that that deserves some thought, but Sonny’s dipping into her again, is sucking at her nipple, is pressing into her hip, is nudging her legs spread wider. 

Sonny’s kissing down her stomach and sliding a finger in, but slowly, teasingly, and Lindsey is ready to scream, ready to beg, ready to give Sonny anything she’d ask for. Lindsey’s fingers are tangling in her hair, tugging her down. She blushes when Sonny chuckles against the inside of her thigh. She blushes deeper when Sonny asks, “A little impatient, huh, baby?”

And then she adds a second finger, achingly slowly, and she breathes out across Lindsey’s clit and Lindsey is bucking into the touch, whimpering at so little contact. 

Sonny takes her time and when she gets her off it’s the most intense orgasm of her life. 

Sonny takes her time and when Lindsey comes it’s with Sonny’s tongue on her clit and her fingers working in and out of her, and Lindsey swears she sees stars explode behind her eyes. 

Sonny takes her time, and when Lindsey comes she helps her down slowly, soothingly, carefully. She takes her time taking care of her both building up and coming down and Lindsey wonders what else has been missing from her sex life for all these years. 

  
  


Sonny doesn’t seem sure. She’s laying there, naked and blushing, her hair spread out on the pillow, and she’s looking at Lindsey like she’s not sure what she’s allowed to ask for, like she’s not sure what Lindsey’s willing to give her. 

(And Lindsey-

Lindsey sees her like that, looking at her with shy eyes, biting her lip, and thinks she’d give her the world, and that-

THAT is something she really should evaluate. 

Later.)

So Lindsey kisses Sonny. She kisses her and runs her fingers over her body, trails her hands over soft breasts and hard nipples, traces over patterns of freckles and tensed muscles, ghosts over ribs and hips and thighs. She kisses her and touches her until she’s writhing a little beneath her, her breath a little ragged, and then Lindsey takes a deep breath and starts to kiss her way down. She kisses across Sonny’s chest and licks at her nipples. She kisses down stomach muscles that tense under her touch. She kisses over hip bones and the tops of Sonny’s thighs. And Lindsey hesitates. 

She hasn’t done this, but she WANTS to. She wants to know what Sonny tastes like, wants to know if it’s as good as she smells, wants to know if she CAN do this, if she can make Sonny feel even a fraction of what Sonny has done to her. 

But she’s scared, too. What if she doesn’t like it? What if she’s bad at it? What if-

“You don’t have to,” Sonny says, and she’s bringing her legs together as best she can with Lindsey settled there between them, covering herself a little. 

Maybe it’s the way that Sonny just never seems to EXPECT anything from her. Or maybe it’s the way that Sonny sounds so unsure in the moment. But it settles Lindsey’s nerves and she makes up her mind right there. 

“Want to,” she murmurs against Sonny’s skin, sliding her hands up the inside of Sonny’s thighs, spreading her legs again. 

And then she goes for it. She’s tentative at first. Just a little lick, up and through, and- She’s not sure what she expected Sonny to taste like but this-

This is better. She can’t stop the moan, or the way that her eyes flutter shut at the knowledge that this is EMILY SONNETT she’s tasting on her lips, on her tongue. This is what she tastes like and it’s-

“Fuck,” she gasps, and then she licks again, a little surer, a little harder, and Sonny’s hips buck up. 

She’s sure she’s not the most skilled, and it’s not long before her jaw starts to kind of hurt, but she can feel Sonny’s legs trembling on either side of her head, can feel the way that Sonny’s fingers are digging into her scalp, and she knows that this is doing something for her. SHE’s doing something for her. She’s building her up with her tongue. And it takes a lot more finesse than when she’s giving a guy a blowjob, but not in a bad way. It’s a little fun, really, figuring out which strokes of her tongue make Sonny whimper, which ones make her gasp, which ones make her moan. It’s empowering to feel the way that Sonny can’t stop herself from bucking into Lindsey’s mouth when Lindsey licks and sucks at her clit. 

“Can I- Fuck! Linds, need your- Need your fingers, please! Need you inside me!”

And, fuck, it feels so good to be needed like that, to feel like this is something that Sonny only wants from her, and nobody else, like this is something that only she can give her. So she does it gladly, she thrusts in, two fingers right away, and Sonny’s arching off the bed to meet her thrusts, pushing her clit into Lindsey’s mouth. 

And it’s a little tricky, remembering to do both, remembering to lick and thrust and trying to find a rhythm, but Sonny’s acting like she’s close. She’s moaning and shaking and Linsey can feel her clenching around her fingers, and so she takes a page out of Sonny’s book, and she says, “Come for me, Em. Come for me baby.” She urges the words against Sonny’s clit, and then Sonny’s coming. She’s coming with Lindsey’s name on her lips and Lindsey’s mouth on her clit and Lindsey’s fingers inside her and Lindsey’s never felt quite so proud about getting someone off. 

It’s not an achievement to get a guy off. It’s easy. She always felt like all she had to do with Russell was just lay there and he’d still get there, but with Sonny-

She DID that. And when Sonny tugs her up, and she slides her fingers out and Sonny kisses her fiercely-

When she kisses her and licks her lips afterwards and Lindsey knows that she’s tasting herself on her lips-

When she kisses her and gasps, “Fuck baby- Linds, that felt so fucking good!”, it DOES things to Lindsey. 

“Yeah?”

Sonny nods, her forehead pressed against Lindseys, her nose smooshing into her cheek a little, and then she kisses her again. “So good.”

And Lindsey kisses back and holds her close and wonders why it took her this long to realize just how wrong Russell was for her all along. 

  
  


When they go to sleep that night, they’re both still naked, their bodies are spent, and Lindsey’s arms are wrapped firmly around Sonny, holding her, claiming her. 

And when they wake up the next morning it’s with shy smiles. 

And it’s only when Lindsey is getting dressed that she sees the mark that Sonny had left on her skin. A mark just inside her hip bone, only evident if her shirt lifts up, but she does her best to cover it with makeup anyway, trying not to smile, even as anxiety coils in her gut, because she’s been claimed too. 

  
  


She doesn’t break up with Russell. 

It’s not intentional. It’s not like she’s trying not to, it’s just...Well, he’s given her actual years of his life, and he’s already probably got fewer left than her, being older. She feels like she owes him somehow. Like she owes him the decency of an in person break up. 

And who looks FORWARD to a break up? Who looks forward to breaking someone’s heart?

(And she’s not sure she ever truly loved him, but she’s pretty sure he loves her.)

She doesn’t break up with him because she has training and games in Portland and then they’re in New Jersey for a Sunday game, and then they’re in Houston for a weekday game, and then there’s more training and then there’s a home game on Saturday. 

She doesn’t break up with him because he’s busy in Denver. He has meetings and scouting and an event coming up for the club. 

She doesn’t break up with him because it’s not like it’s easy to coordinate a trip with their schedules. 

She doesn’t break up with him, but she does avoid his calls more often. She limits Facetimes, coming up with lamer and lamer excuses. She doesn’t text him unless he texts her, and it’s not really her fault if sometimes the idea of replying slips her mind before she has a chance to do it. He just-

He doesn’t occupy a lot of space in her brain. 

And the worst part is that it doesn’t feel like he’s taking up substantially fewer of her thoughts. It feels like she’d been forcing herself to think about him and now she’s stopped. And that-

It makes guilt curl tight inside her as she lies in bed beside Sonny, until Sonny rolls over and kisses her. 

It makes her wonder if she deserves someone like Sonny when she still hasn’t found it in herself to break it off with someone like Russell. 

It makes her feel like she’s always a little bit tense, always a little bit on edge, always about to be found out, about to be caught. 

It makes her feel a little like she’s going insane. 

  
  


“Missed a spot.”

Lindsey looks questioningly up at Tobin from where she’s tying her laces. 

“On your throat,” Tobin advises. “I think Gabi has some concealer here. Let me ask.”

And Lindsey’s eyes widen in horror. Not because of Tobin’s words, not exactly, but because of what they imply. 

Tobin’s jogging back with a compact in her hand and Lindsey’s mouth is dry and her head is spinning and she’s looking anywhere but over at the bench where Sonny is laughing with Kling. 

Tobin hands it over and Lindsey flips it open, her vision blurring before her eyes as she takes in what is unmistakably a hickey sticking out from her jersey at the base of her throat. She uses the concealer as best she can, not daring to look up at Tobin, not wanting to see the judgment she’s sure is waiting in her eyes. 

Tobin’s not an idiot. She knows that Russell hasn’t been in town. She knows that the only places that Lindsey has travelled, she’s travelled too. Which means that Tobin knows. She might not know Sonny, but she knows it wasn’t Russell who left the mark on Lindsey. She knows it’s not Russell that Lindsey has been letting claim her body. 

“Tobin-” Lindsey starts as she hands the compact back, her voice already shaking, and she can feel tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. She feels like her world is imploding, and she doesn’t even have any words to defend herself. 

She’s a cheater and now Tobin knows it too. 

Tobin takes the compact and shoots her a small grin. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but it’s reassuring in a way that Lindsey is sure she doesn’t deserve, and Tobin says, “Ready for practice?” and Mark blows his whistle and Lindsey-

Lindsey thinks that maybe she should go home sick. She feels a knot, large and tense in her stomach, she feels waves of nausea rolling over her. Sinc even comments that she looks a little pale. It would be believable. 

But then Tobin’s putting a hand on her shoulder and saying, “Head in the game Horan,” into her ear, and she manages. 

She makes it through practice. 

She makes it all the way through, and then she runs to the locker room and then she disappears. 

  
  


She doesn’t even really know where she’s disappearing to. She’s just driving. She didn’t even pause to shower and she’s regretting that decision as the sweat has dried and stuck her jersey uncomfortably to her body. She’s driving and the air conditioning is up a little high and she’s shivering a little, but her face feels like it’s on fire, and all she can think is that she’s a cheater. She’s a cheater and she doesn’t deserve Russell. Russell who thinks she’s this faithful girlfriend living a few states away from him, who thinks she loves him. She’s a cheater and she doesn’t deserve the kindness that Tobin showed her at practice today. Tobin who’s like her big sister, who is surely disappointed in her, disappointed in the decisions she’s made. She’s a cheater and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve Emily Sonnett. Sonny who kisses her like she’s the only girl in the world, who makes her feel more alive than anyone else ever has, who is kind and good and who Lindsey is in love with and STILL Lindsey can’t do the right thing. 

Sonny who is helping her cheat, who is being kept a secret because of Lindsey, who presses love into Lindsey’s skin that she doesn’t deserve at all. 

She pulls over at a scenic outlook up the coast and barely makes it out of the car before she throws up. 

  
  


Sonny calls first, but Lindsey lets it go to voicemail. 

And then Tobin calls. 

And then Sonny texts. 

And then Tobin texts. 

And then Sonny calls again. 

Lindsey stops checking her phone after that. 

She stares out at the waves crashing against the rocks and breathes in the crisp sea air and before she knows it, she’s crying. The tears make the wind sting her eyes and she finds herself wishing that she’d thought to grab a sweatshirt as a chill runs through her. 

She’s made a mess of everything. She knows it. She’s been a coward to not dump Russell. She should have done it ages ago. As soon as she realized her interest in someone else. Or before that, even. Back when she’d first had the thought, “Do I really love him?” Instead she’d stayed with him. She’d forced herself to be with him, to try to think of him, and in the end it had almost made her resent him. 

But she’s the one who should be resented. She’s the one who’s done something wrong. 

She’s a cheater. She’d never got it, never understood what could compel someone to do that, and now here she is. And not just once, but over and over. Not just a physical relationship, but she knows she’s falling for Sonny too. She knows she’s fallen. 

The idea of losing Sonny-

It’s almost enough to make her puke again. 

But she doesn’t deserve her. Sonny with her kind eyes and her soft smile. Sonny with her goofy jokes and fun dances. Sonny with her larger than life personality. Sonny her best friend who she could always call, no matter the time, no matter the reason, and she knew she’d be there for her. 

And now-

Now she can’t. She can’t call Sonny. Sonny deserves so much better. Sonny deserves to have all of her.

No. Sonny deserves to have all of someone so much better than Lindsey. 

  
  


She isn’t sure exactly how long she sits there. She doesn’t know what she hopes to accomplish by staying there, the rock beneath her feeling more jagged as it stabs into her each passing minute.

It feels like she’s waiting for something, but she has no idea what it is, and in the end she stands up before it comes. Her body feels drained, her mind tired as she trudges back to her car. 

She climbs in slowly, her limbs aching from too long spent sitting on the rocks without shifting position, and then she sighs before she starts up the car. 

It’s only then that she notices the gas light is on. She doesn’t know when it might have come on. She wasn’t exactly thinking as she’d driven, but there was also very definitely no gas station for miles, and that-

Fuck.

She was going to have to call for help. 

  
  


Lindsey feels a momentary sense of relief as she sees Tobin’s car approach in the distance. It’s the only car she’s seen in a good half an hour and between the darkening skies and her current self-loathing thoughts, she’s never felt quite so lonely. 

And then, as she approaches, she makes out a familiar figure in the passenger seat, and Lindsey feels sick all over again. 

When they pull to a stop, Tobin climbs out first, but Sonny follows suit after a brief moment, opening the door and standing up, leaning against the car. She doesn’t approach, but her eyes are focused on Lindsey and her brows are furrowed. 

Tobin comes over, lifting a can of gas up and offering a smile that Lindsey feels like she doesn’t deserve, but Lindsey looks past her, eyes still trained on Sonny until Tobin fully steps between them, obscuring her from view. 

“Feel better?” Tobin asks. 

“No,” Lindsey replies, unable to meet Tobin’s gaze. 

“Come on. Let’s fill up your car,” Tobin says. 

  
  


“I never meant to cheat on him,” Lindsey blurts as Tobin empties the remains of the gas can into Lindsey’s car and then straightens. 

“Okay,” Tobin replies. 

There’s no judgment in her voice, but Lindsey almost wishes that there was. 

“I really thought I loved him.”

Tobin nods, her brown eyes kind as they look at her, and Lindsey hates it. She hates it. Because she knows that Tobin must be disappointed in her. She’s disappointed in herself. But Tobin isn’t showing it. 

“I didn’t even really realize that I fully wasn’t straight until-”

Lindsey’s eyes flick over Tobin’s shoulder to Sonny and Tobin nods again. 

“And I didn’t mean for this to become a whole thing. I was going to break up with him as soon as I saw him, I just haven’t seen him and-”

“I don’t think I’m the one who you should be explaining this to,” Tobin cuts her off. “But you can practice on me if you want.”

Lindsey sags. She sags against her car and wonders if she’d still be standing if it wasn’t there to support her. “How did you know?”

“Because Sonny’s been into you forever. Because you’ve always been different around her. Because you showed up at my room at camp for three nights and then suddenly you didn’t show up anymore. Because Sonny had a hickey just visible above her sports bra at camp. Because you can’t keep your eyes off each other.”

Hearing the evidence stacked up like that makes it feel so obvious, like the whole world must be able to see. Like maybe even Russell has been able to see. 

“I’ve always been different around her?”

“There’s always been something in your interactions that you never had with anyone else. Not in France. Not here.”

Lindsey nods. 

“I think I’m in love with her,” she admits. 

“Then it sounds like you have some things to do.”

Lindsey nods again. The tears that had spilled earlier prick at her eyes again and she wipes them away furiously, but then Tobin is pulling her into a tight hug, and Lindsey can’t stop them. 

The shoulder of Tobin’s sweatshirt is damp by the time Lindsey manages to pull away. 

“I’m sorry,” Lindsey murmurs. 

“For what?” Tobin sounds genuinely surprised. 

“For disappointing you.”

Tobin frowns. “What?”

“I know you expected more from me than to be some- Some-”

“Dude. Lindsey. No. You’re- Look, I get that you’re not feeling great about yourself right now, but I’m always gonna love you and be proud of you. Love and life are never easy, dude. Even for people you think have it all figured out. I dunno what I’d have done in your shoes, so I have no right to judge.”

And just like that she’s crying again, and Tobin is pulling her into another hug that she sags into. 

When they break apart again, Tobin wipes under Lindsey’s eyes and smiles. “I’m gonna head back. Leave you two to talk, okay?”

Lindsey nods. She doesn’t want to, necessarily, but she doesn’t not want to either, and the truth is she NEEDS to talk to Sonny. 

Tobin places a kiss on her temple. “I’ll see you back at your place?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I WANT to. I’ll see you there, okay?”

And just like that it’s settled. 

  
  


Sonny looks unsure. She keeps her eyes trained on Lindsey even as Tobin’s car disappears down the road, but she doesn’t approach, like she isn’t sure if she’s allowed to.

And Lindsey is torn. She’s torn between wanting to call her over, between wanting to go to her and close the distance between them, and wanting to stay far away, wanting to keep this safe distance. 

But nothing is going to be achieved with them standing awkwardly apart from each other, and Sonny shouldn’t have to come to her. Not when she’s already driven all this way with Tobin just to see her, just to check on her. 

So Lindsey drags her feet forward, each step feeling heavier than the last, until she’s standing in front of Sonny, fingers itching to reach out and touch her while her brain yells at her not to. 

“Hey,” Sonny volunteers, squinting at Lindsey against the setting sun. 

She’s gorgeous, Lindsey thinks, with the golden light of the sun hitting her, making her hair practically glow, her eyes pop in an intense blue. She looks almost angelic, and Lindsey wants to kiss her, wants to hold her, wants to give her the world.

But right now she can’t. 

Right now, by name and name alone, she’s someone else’s girlfriend. 

Sonny doesn’t deserve that. She never did. 

“I’m sorry,” Lindsey blurts. 

Unlike with Tobin, Sonny doesn’t ask what for. 

“You didn’t do it alone,” Sonny replies. “I wanted- I WANT you so much that I-” Sonny cuts herself off, swallows hard, drops her gaze. 

Lindsey fights the urge to reach out and touch her, to console her. It’s not her place. Not yet. They need to stop for now if there’s ever going to be any hope for them down the line. 

“I get it. I want, too, but-”

“You’re his.”

“No!” Lindsey practically shouts the word, and Sonny looks up in surprise. “No. I was never his. But I do have to break up with him. I think- I think maybe I’ll ask Mark if I can take a trip. I need- I’ve been putting it off, and I need to not. I need- It’s not fair to you.”

Sonny’s eyes are downcast again, but she nods. “It’s not fair to you either,” she points out. 

Lindsey swallows hard and adds, “Or to him.”

Sonny nods again, but her expression is pained. 

Lindsey risks it. She knows she shouldn’t but, fuck, she needs to touch her, needs to offer her SOMETHING. She reaches out and takes Sonny’s hand, just lightly, just letting it hang limply from her fingers. Sonny doesn’t squeeze back, but her gaze shifts to their point of contact. 

“I want to be someone you deserve, Son. I want- I want to take you out on dates and not worry about how people will interpret us being out together. I want to be able to kiss you in public and not worry who might see. I want- I want to show you off to the world. I want to shout it from the rooftops how much I love you-”

Sonny gasps and her eyes finally meet Lindsey’s, and Lindsey’s pretty sure she sees hope there, but she’s not done. She can’t be done, much as she’d like to leave everything there. 

“But I think- I think before I can do that, I need to take some time for me. I need to break things off with him properly and then just...just be me. For a little bit. Without you. Or just as your friend.”

She sees the tears welling up in Sonny’s eyes and feels her heart breaking for her, but she doesn’t give in. She doesn’t pull her to her. She squeezes her hand, just once, then lets it drop. 

Sonny nods. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Lindsey repeats because she’s not sure what else to say. The words feel inadequate, but they’re all she’s got. 

Sonny nods again. “Me too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindsey does a lot of soul searching and finally figures things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I was able to stick to 3 chapters! Woohoo! I hope you all enjoy!   
xx

She feels like she can barely breathe as she steps off the plane in Denver. It’s the first time that coming home has felt like this and she wonders if that’s partially because she left part of her heart back in Portland. 

She feels worse when she sees that Russell came to pick her up. She’d distinctly told him not to. She’d wanted a little time before she’d had to face him. She was going to head home first, see her family, see if she couldn’t put her head on her shoulders properly before facing him. But there he is, waiting just through the security gates with a sign and a grin that makes Lindsey feel sick to her stomach. 

It doesn’t matter that she’s been trying to think of what to say to him since she talked to Sonny. It doesn’t matter that she spent the entire flight planning out the ways she could say it that might take the sting out of it. 

As soon as she sees him her mind goes blank and her stomach churns and she feels like she’s going to throw up. 

“Hey, there my sexy superstar!” he greets her loudly, his arms wrapping her in a tight hug, and she catches the way that people around them turn to see who she might be, see what kind of a superstar has landed in Denver. She sees the looks of recognition on a few faces, and one little girl excitedly tugging on her dad’s sleeve. It’s the first time she’s really wanted to not see fans at all, but she forces a smile as the dad comes over and asks if his little girl might have a picture. And she plays soccer, too. In Denver. She looks up to Lindsey. So Lindsey can’t say no. 

And once she’s not said no to this little girl, then five other people work up the nerve to ask for autographs and pictures, and Russell is standing back, beaming, and Lindsey just wants to melt into the floor. 

And then he’s slinging his arm around her, possessive in a way that feels uncomfortable, apparently oblivious to the way she stiffens at his touch. He gets her bag like she’s not perfectly capable of getting it for herself. 

He natters away as they make their way to the parking garage and his car and she thinks about how he doesn’t even seem to notice that she’s barely contributing. 

And then-

And then he’s leaning across the center console and pulling her into a kiss and his stubble scratches at her chin and his lips feel too wet, too big, and it’s-

It’s too much. 

She pulls back quickly. 

“Don’t feel well,” she mumbles, and that much is not a lie. She feels like she’s been on the verge of throwing up since she saw him, and kissing him-

Kissing him has only made her stomach churn more. Has made her feel-

She feels like she’s cheating on Sonny. 

And they’re not even together. 

And technically Sonny is the one she’s been cheating with.

But if no one besides Sonny ever kisses her again it’ll still be too soon that she tastes someone else, and that-

Fuck. 

That’s a problem. 

  
  


He’s made her dinner. And entire thing with chicken and couscous and veggies. It’s nicely seasoned and he says there’s dessert and Lindsey feels her stomach sinking with each passing minute. 

How can she do this? How can she just break up with this man who cares enough to make her dinner? Who surprised her at the airport to be romantic? Who arranged it with her family that he could get her first, get her tonight? How can she just take his heart and stomp on it? 

So she picks at her food and she forces her bites down and she smiles awkwardly over the top of her fork and makes what she hopes come out as appreciative sounds, and she hates herself a little more with each one. 

She forces down the main course and hopes and prays that it’s enough that she can say, “No thanks,” to dessert. Maybe she can plead exhaustion and just go to bed.

Except that the idea of sharing a room with him, lying in bed next to his body, with his hands on her-

Her skin shouldn’t crawl at the thought, but it does.

And of course it’s her favorite fucking dessert from her favorite bakery in Denver. Of course it looks mouthwateringly good. Of course it’s fucking thoughtful. 

And he sets it down in front of her and leans in for a kiss, and she’s not fast enough. She’s not fast enough and he captures her lips in his, and she tries to protest that she still doesn’t feel well, that she doesn’t want to get him sick, but he chases her lips, he says he doesn’t care, that she’s worth it. 

And that’s it. 

She can’t. 

She can’t do this. She can’t stay here. She can’t kiss him or be with him or even look at him. 

She can’t. 

She doesn’t deserve to.

“Russell, stop!” she declares, jumping back from him, leaping out of her seat and putting distance between them. 

And he’s looking wounded already, looking like he isn’t sure what he’s done wrong. 

And he hasn’t done anything. Not really. Not him. 

But she can’t. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, and again the words feel inadequate. And she can feel tears welling up in her eyes and she can see him starting to move to comfort her, but she doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t WANT it. 

So she scoots away, out of reach of his outstretched arms, and then they fall to his side and he looks confused, looks hurt, looks-

“I think we need to break up.”

He looks like he’s been slapped in the face. 

“Baby, what? Linds...Are you joking?”

Lindsey shakes her head, hating the way the pet name sounds falling from his lips. She shakes her head and turns away, but she turns the wrong way, she exposes the wrong side of her neck, and his eyes catch it. 

She doesn’t realize at first. She’s almost forgotten about it. It’s started to fade, but it’s still there, still visible, still unmistakable in what it is. 

She doesn’t realize he’s seen it until his voice - cold, sullen, almost too quiet - asks, “Is there someone else?”

And she freezes. She freezes in place, panic written all over her face, and then she remembers and her hand goes to her neck without her express permission, and she sees his eyes follow it, he sees the way his body stiffen, the way that he pulls away. 

She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to. 

He knows. 

He knows, and she feels like she’s going to cry or throw up or both. 

“Who?” he asks, his voice low. 

“Russell,” she pleads, and the first tears spill down her cheeks, burning hot. 

“Who, Lindsey?” 

“I didn’t mean-”

“WHO IS IT?” he roars, and Lindsey recoils. 

“Sonny,” she whispers. 

Russell goes pale, and his eyes go wide and she sees him mouthing Sonny’s name, mouthing it over and over as if trying to process the information, and then finally he says, “A girl? You’re- You’re-”

“I don’t know.”

He sets his jaw and Lindsey can see tears in his eyes that he’s fighting back and she can’t think of a moment that she has felt worse ever in her entire life. 

“Did you ever love me?”

“Yes,” she says. She doesn’t know if it’s the truth, but if she can do anything, anything at all to soften the blow, she has to try. 

“Then how could- How- WHY, Lindsey?”

He’s letting the tears fall, but he’s brushing angrily at them as if he resents them, as if he’s mad that she could get to him like this. 

She hates it. She hates absolutely everything about this mess that she finds herself in and she knows that it is 100% her own fault. 

She doesn’t have an answer for him, though, and he shakes his head in this way that feels so much worse than anything he could have said. 

And then he’s telling her to get out. He’s telling her he never wants to see her again. He tells her to get out and take her stuff and not come back. He tells her good riddance. 

And she does. She listens. She grabs some stuff she knows she’d left there, grabs her bag, and she leaves, even though she doesn’t have a car, even though she doesn’t have a plan, and she doesn’t really feel like facing her family right now. She grabs her stuff and she leaves his apartment, leaves his building, leaves his street, and then she sinks to the ground, back against a rough brick wall, and she cries at the mess she’s made of everything. 

  
  


It’s not until she’s back in Portland a few days later that it properly hits her that it’s over. Or, rather, what it being over means.

It’s not until she’s back in Portland, back in her own space, in her own apartment and her own room and her own bed, that she begins to feel free. 

For the first time in years she isn’t Russell’s. And he isn’t a bad guy. He wasn’t a bad boyfriend. But he wasn’t the right fit for her and the truth is he never was. 

So here she is, for the first time in years, entirely her own. 

She’d expected it to feel lonely, especially without Sonny by her side, but instead it just feels freeing in a way that she really hadn’t anticipated. 

And when she goes to practice the next day, there’s the hint of a bounce in her step, not for anyone else, but for herself. When she sees Sonny across the field she makes eye contact for the first time since they’d parted after the long drive back to their apartments after her freak out and she manages a smile that doesn’t make her chest ache. 

She’s still made a mess of everything, she knows, but she wonders if maybe she had to to be able to move forward. 

  
  


She spends more time by herself than she ever used to before. 

At first it kind of sucks. It feels like a punishment. Then again, she kind of deserves to be punished. 

She spends a lot of time in her apartment. She doesn’t invite friends over. She turns down invitations from others. 

She tries to stay off her phone. She texts back infrequently, allowing herself time between the message’s arrival and her reply. 

(When it’s Sonny she has to fight the urge to instantly reply, but Sonny doesn’t text too often. She tries not to read too much into it. She tells herself Sonny is just giving her the space she requested.)

She finds herself with more time to read than she’s had in recent years, and she remembers how she used to enjoy it before high school assignments had made her resent it. She rediscovers old favorites, texts Becky and Rose for new recommendations, and finds new loves. 

She goes on hikes by herself, too. 

She texts Christen about meditation tips and Christen gives her a few then puts her in touch with Channing. 

She flies to Denver for the first time since the break up and sees nobody that she knows, not even her family. She goes to one of Channing’s Vedic meditation retreats and Channing gives her her sound. It takes her a little while to get into it. Meditation has never been her strong suit. 

But by the time she flies back to Portland, she feels like she knows how to continue it herself. 

  
  


Mostly she spends a lot of time thinking. 

Some days she wishes she didn’t. Some days she replays every decision she made that got her into this position. She thinks about how she could have, no SHOULD have done things differently. How she should have broken things off with Russell earlier. How she should never have kissed Sonny when she was with someone else. How she should’ve been smarter about having feelings for Sonny to begin with. How she’d let herself become something she’d never wanted to be. 

Some days it’s better. Some days it’s like she’s figuring out how to put the past away, to accept it so that she can move forward. Some days she lets herself imagine a happy future. Some days she thinks about asking Sonny out properly, about taking her out on dates in public, about being able to tell the team, tell her family, tell their friends. Some days she thinks about kissing Sonny without guilt curling uncomfortably in her gut. 

Some days she just focuses on today. She thinks about getting through practice and giving it her all. She thinks about the best meals to cook to maximize recovery and make the most of her calorie intake. She focuses on her meditation, on calming her mind, on being mindful in the moment and the day. 

It’s hard, but she’s willing to work on it. 

  
  


Maybe the biggest change, or the one that she feels is the most helpful at least, is that she starts to keep a journal. She fills the pages far faster than she’d anticipated and buys a second within a month. 

Some pages are filled with memories, all the way back to childhood. She focuses on those some days, especially happy memories, trying to pick apart why those moments stick out, to try to capture the essence of those feelings. Things like her first championship win, her tenth birthday party, their first family trip to Disney Land, the first time her dad took her and her brother to an observatory. Things like the first time she started in France even though they’d told her they wouldn’t start her. 

Things like meeting Tobin and being taken under her wing. 

Some pages are filled with more recent thoughts and feelings, exploring the bad alongside the good. It helps her to put it down on paper. It helps her organize and settle her thoughts, especially on the bad days. 

And then there are the pages about Sonny. Trips they’ve taken together, games they’ve played side by side, times they’ve laughed together, times they’ve cried together. She pours everything she can about Sonny into the pages, trying to figure out when and how to convey her feelings to her in person. 

She knows she still doesn’t deserve her, but she feels like, maybe, if she keeps on this path, she’ll become someone who does. 

  
  


Tobin invites her over for Monday dinners. They’re almost always back from away games by then and at first Lindsey tries to get out of them, to continue her self-imposed social isolation, but Tobin knows- 

Tobin knows everything.

So in the end she relents, because it’s nice to talk to someone else, it’s nice to feel wanted and loved. 

It’s during one of these Monday dinners that Tobin finally asks. 

“So when are you going to do something about Sonny?”

Lindsey almost chokes. “What?”

Tobin gives her a pointed look. “It’s been almost two months. We have camp coming up soon. You’re going to be interacting in an even more intimate setting. There’s no escaping things at camp. And she’s- You need to do something.”

Lindsey picks at her food, mixing up the components to her southwestern quinoa bowl more thoroughly. “I don’t know how.”

She hadn’t realized that. Not fully. Not until right at that moment. For all her thought, for all her reflection and contemplation, she hadn’t realized. She’s fantasized about a future without making any tangible plans on how to make it happen. 

She’d told Sonny she needed time, that she needed to be by herself, to maybe go back to just friends, but the truth is she’s kept her at arm’s length. 

And now-

Now she’s not sure where Sonny’s at about all of this. Maybe she’s thought better of it. Maybe she’s finally realized that she should have been resenting Lindsey all along. Maybe-

“Have you tried talking to her?”

Technically the answer is yes. They have talked. They’ve talked about plays and tactics and soccer. They’ve talked on the field and Lindsey’s asked her to pass something in the locker room, and they’ve interacted amicably at the team bonding dinner. They’ve texted back and forth a few times. 

“Not really. Not like you mean.”

“Well, sounds like that might be a start.”

Suddenly Lindsey is filled with too much anxiety to finish her food, and when she goes home that night, she stares at the ceiling for hours, trying to figure out how, exactly she should even make the first move to attempt to talk to her properly. 

  
  


Lindsey drafts ten different texts. She sends none of them. 

In the end, Tobin has to give her a literal shove right into Sonny as they’re walking into the tunnel after practice. 

“Sorry,” Lindsey mumbles, her cheeks flushing, and Sonny laughs and helps her find her feet, hands warm on her arms. 

“You okay?”

It’s not like they haven’t had contact in the past almost two months, but it hasn’t-

This is the closest they’ve been, the most they’ve touched, and Lindsey feels it EVERYWHERE. It makes it hard for her to think. 

“You okay?” Sonny repeats, a hint of amusement on her lips and in her eyes. 

“Yeah. Sorry. Tobin shoved me,” she mutters, glaring down the tunnel after Tobin who throws up a shaka before disappearing. 

“Ah, okay,” Sonny replies. Her hands drop to her sides, but she doesn’t make a move to leave, to move away. She stays put, looking at Lindsey. 

And Lindsey knows. She KNOWS that this is her moment. 

But her mouth has gone dry and her throat feels too tight, and Sonny’s eyes are just so, so pretty. It’s distracting. 

“Linds?” Sonny prompts. 

“Go out with me?” she blurts. 

And, no. That’s not the next step at all. That’s not what needs to happen, and she can see the way that Sonny hesitates, the way she’s biting her lip and her brows have knitted together, and Lindsey shakes her head violently. 

“No.”

“No?” Sonny echoes in confusion. 

And could she be bumbling this anymore? Christ! 

“No, what I meant was…” Lindsey takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly. “Can we talk? Maybe you could come over later? Or I could come to you? Or...or we could meet somewhere neutral?”

Sonny raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Lindsey?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you come over after practice?”

Lindsey breathes a sigh of relief and nods gratefully. “Yeah. That sounds good. Great. Thanks.”

Sonny pats her on the arm and then heads off towards the locker rooms, leaving Lindsey still standing there near the mouth of the tunnel, watching her go. 

She hopes she doesn’t imagine the slight bounce to Sonny’s step. 

  
  


She has never been so nervous to knock on Sonny’s door. Not ever. 

Then again, it’s been a while. It’s been the longest it’s ever been in the entire time she’s known her, maybe. At least while they’ve been in the same city. 

She has to do this, though. She needs to make amends, to mend this bridge, if there is any hope of a future for them. 

So she knocks, her heart pounding louder in her head than her knuckles rapping on Sonny’s door, her breath coming out uneven and a bit forced. Breathing is supposed to be one of those things your body automatically does, she’s sure, but at the moment it feels like she has to remind her body of that. 

She waits a beat. 

Then two. 

Fuck, maybe this was a mistake.

Maybe she should have just brought her bag with her after practice instead of detouring to drop it at her place. Maybe Sonny has changed her mind. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to Lindsey anymore. 

She raises her hand to knock again, and the door swings open. 

“Hey! Sorry. I was in the bathroom.”

Sonny smiles brightly and Lindsey melts on the spot. 

“Hi.”

Sonny holds the door open and looks at Lindsey expectantly and it’s only then that she remembers that she should probably actually go inside. 

“Right. Sorry,” she mumbles, feeling her cheeks color. 

Sonny closes the door behind them and moves in to her apartment, pushing past Lindsey and settling on her couch. 

She looks as comfortable as she always does there, but Lindsey can’t bring herself to join her, isn’t sure if she’d be welcome on the couch beside her or if she should sit in the chair instead. Maybe she should just stand. Will this conversation take long? Or will she continue to bumble things until Sonny gets fed up and kicks her out. 

“Linds, sit.”

The use of the nickname cuts through her anxiety and she does as instructed, perching on the far edge of the couch as Sonny looks on slightly amused. 

“So…” Sonny prompts when Lindsey doesn’t say anything right away. 

“I broke up with him.”

Sonny nods. “Tobin told me.”

“I’m sorry. I should have. Like as soon as I did. I should have texted or something. I should have told you before now ‘cause-”

“It’s cool, Linds. You needed some time, and...I did too.”

“Oh.”

Lindsey can already feel herself getting nauseous, can feel anxiety coiling in her gut again. She needed time. She needed time to realize that she doesn’t want Lindsey. Not like that. That’s why she’s so at ease right now. She just wants to be Lindsey’s friend and they KNOW how to be friends. Of course. 

“I don’t like how we started,” Sonny adds, when Lindsey doesn’t say anything more. 

“Me either. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ruined what we could have had by not waiting, by being a coward, by staying with Russell even when I knew he wasn’t right for me.” The words start spilling out and it’s suddenly like she can’t stop them. “I’m sorry I didn’t dump him the second I figured out that I liked you. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you properly in a nice way, when I was single and free to act on it. I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this and made you compromise your morals. I’m sorry I fucked everything up so completely, and I’ve been trying to do self-improvement. I mean, I knew what we did was wrong, but then his face when he found out-”

“Wait, he knows? About- About us?” Sonny suddenly doesn’t look as comfortable, her body tense, leaning forward. 

“He saw the hickey on my throat, so I- I’m sorry. I should’ve told you this sooner too. I should’ve checked with you, but I told him. I-I told him about you.”

“Well, that explains the twitter shade,” Sonny comments, half to herself as she leans back. 

“Wait, he what?”

Sonny shakes her head and waves away the comment. “Just some stupid vague shit. Nothing that direct. Don’t worry about it.”

“Shit! He- I’m sorry, Sonny. I’m sorry for all of it. I’m sorry for the cheating and for not breaking up with him sooner and for needing so long to try to get my thoughts in order. I’m sorry I blew things so horribly, and I get it if you don’t even want to be my friend anymore I just-”

“What?”

There’s so much incredulity on her face that Lindsey cuts herself short. 

“You think I don’t want to be your friend anymore?”

“No. Yes. Maybe?”

Sonny laughs. “You’re an idiot, Linessi.”

The familiar nickname makes her smile wider than it probably should. “So you DO want to be my friend?”

Sonny bites her lip, she hesitates, just for a second, but it sends anxiety spiking through Lindsey, tight and uncomfortable, and then she notices the way Sonny’s cheeks are colored a little pink and the way her eyes are trailing down to where Lindsey’s V-neck dips into her breasts, and it hits her: Sonny’s not hesitating because she doesn’t want to be friends. She’s hesitating because she wants more, but doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t know if she can. 

“Yes. Of course.”

“And, maybe- Sonny, I-” Lindsey takes a deep breath and tries again, tries to be brave. She’s been so cowardly in all of this so far. She can’t be that anymore. “I don’t just want to be your friend, but I think it’s important that we start there. I don’t want to rush this. I don’t want to rush you. I want- I want to do this right.” There’s more she wants to say, but she knows it’s too much too soon, so she holds it back. 

Sonny looks at her for a long moment, eyes searching hers, and then Sonny’s lips are pressed against hers, a little hard, a little needy. 

Before Lindsey can properly react, they’re gone again, and Sonny’s offering her a soft smile. “To tide me over,” Sonny mumbles, her cheeks turning a brighter shade of pink. 

Lindsey beams. She can’t help it. “Okay.”

“So friends?”

“Friends.”

  
  


It’s weird. It shouldn’t be weird, in theory. It’s not like they don’t know how to be friends. They’ve been friends for years. 

It’s just that now there’s this...other. This underlying thing between them. They both know this isn’t their final destination, but Lindsey is bound and determined not to rush the journey. 

She NEEDS to do this right. 

But if it was hard to focus on an episode of Grey’s before, it’s even worse now. Now when Sonny’s fingers brush hers in the bowl of popcorn and suddenly she can’t breathe. Now when Sonny’s smiles sometimes have this hint of shyness that is just so fucking cute. (Now when she knows what Sonny feels like, what she tastes like - when it’s hard to push those thoughts from her mind now that she’s spending proper time with her again.)

It’s a little easier with others around. Ellie and Caitlin grill her a little bit on why she’s been such a hermit recently, but otherwise have no issue welcoming her back into the fold. It’s clear that they don’t know, Sonny didn’t tell them, so it’s easier to fall into old patterns, to act as is expected of them. 

  
  


It’s not until a week into their newly revived friendship that Lindsey finally finds the courage to ask something that’s been weighing on her mind. 

“Did you- Did you talk to anyone? About- About what happened? With us, I mean.” She can feel her cheeks coloring already, and she hopes it’s not too obvious. 

“Tobin,” Sonny replies simply. 

“Oh.” 

Of course. It makes sense. Tobin already kind of knew. Tobin is older and has more life experience to help offer perspective. Plus she’s chill and thoughtful. She’s the perfect person, really, Lindsey supposes. And yet...It feels a little weird, knowing that Sonny and Tobin were off somewhere talking about her while she was trying to fix herself. 

“She already knew, and I needed someone to talk to. I needed-” Sonny sighs. “I needed someone to take the sting out of missing you when you were right here.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, I know it’s stupid. You didn’t really go anywhere. Well, you did. You went to Denver. Twice-”

“Once for a retreat. With Channing. I didn’t- I haven’t seen him since he threw me out of his apartment when I broke up with him.”

“He WHAT?”

“Not physically. He just asked me to get out and never come back. And...I don’t really want to go back ever. I have no reason to. There isn’t anything for me there.”

And that-

That is apparently the right thing to say, because suddenly she has a Sonny holding her tightly, face buried in her shoulder. Suddenly-

God, Lindsey wants to kiss her so badly.

But she doesn’t. It’s not what friends do, and right now that’s still all they are. 

“Did Tobin help you?”

She feels Sonny nod into her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay.” The words come out muffled against Lindsey’s shirt, but then Sonny steps away, offers a soft smile. “You were busy helping you. I just- I didn’t- I never thought I’d be the person someone cheated with and then you-”

“I know. I never thought I’d be the cheater,” Lindsey admits. 

“I had some guilt to work through.”

“You are DEFINITELY not the only one.” 

Sonny nods. “So...drink?”

“Please!”

  
  


Drinking with Sonny should probably go on the list of things she’s not allowed to do right now. 

It hadn’t been bad when they’d each had one glass of wine. And really they probably should have stopped there. They’re in training. Camp starts next week. It’s not the most advisable decision to get drunk right now. (Then again, it’s far from the worst decision either of them has made in the past few months, and maybe that helps them justify it, just a little.)

The problem is-

The PROBLEM is-

“The problem is I want to kiss you ALL the time.”

Sonny’s eyes go wide, and it takes Lindsey a couple of seconds longer than it probably should have to realize that she had spoken those words out loud. When it hits her, she slaps her hand dramatically over her mouth. 

“Oops,” she mutters, muffled through her fingers. 

Sonny giggles then puts a hand over her own mouth at the sound. “Oops,” she echoes, and then she dissolves into laughter.

Lindsey reaches over and gives Sonny’s leg a shove, but that just means that now her hand is on Sonny’s thigh and it’s warm and inviting and she doesn’t really want to pull her hand back. “Jerk. I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.”

“You want to kiss me! You want to kiss me!” Sonny chants in a voice reminiscent of a playground taunt. 

“Yeah, well, you want to kiss me too.” Yes, that was definitely the cool, mature response that would diffuse the situation. Well done, Lindsey thinks to herself. 

But then Sonny is leaning in close, and her eyes have this certain glint in them that makes Lindsey think, “DANGER!” and Lindsey still has her hand on Sonny’s thigh and-

“Yeah, well, you’re very kissable.”

Fuck. 

“We can’t.” Lindsey jumps up, almost smacking Sonny in the nose in her haste to get some space between them. “Sorry. We- We can’t. Not yet. We- I should go.”

Sonny’s face falls and Lindsey feels significantly more sober, and there’s this pressing ache in her chest, but she ignores it. She’s not wrong. She knows she’s not wrong. 

“You don’t have to go,” Sonny says, but it sounds half-hearted. 

Lindsey bites her lip to stop herself from saying, “Good, because I really don’t want to.” She bites her lip to stop herself from surging forward and pulling Sonny into a searing kiss. 

She takes a deep breath and says, “I really do. Or I’m going- Or WE’RE going to do something we’ll regret, and I-”

Sonny’s nod cuts her off. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Lindsey takes another second to look at Sonny. She reminds herself that they’re just friends. That’s what they NEED to be right now. 

“I’ll see you,” Lindsey says, and then she leaves. 

She really didn’t think that being friends was going to be this hard. 

  
  
  


Camp is good. Camp is-

Well, there are no girlfriends at camp. 

At camp Sonny rooms with Becky and Lindsey rooms with Kelley and Mal and Rose and Sammy are always invading anyway. 

At camp they’re never alone together and the training is intense and it feels like every other day is a double. 

(At camp they do their very best not to think about things that have happened at camp.)

Camp is good. 

Right up until Kelley says, “So when are you gonna ask Sonny out already?”

It’s like somebody has pulled the floor out from under her. It’s like she can actively feel the blood draining out of her face. Maybe it’s pooling in her stomach. Maybe that’s why she has the sudden pressing need to throw up. 

“What?” she croaks, but Kelley isn’t remotely fooled. Her reaction has completely given her away. 

“You broke up with Russell. Word’s gotten around. And you can’t stop looking at her with those heart eyes-”

“I don’t- I- There are no heart eyes!”

Kelley gives her a look and her protests die on her tongue. 

“The only reason Rose and Mal and Sammy haven’t brought it up yet is because they have bets on when you’re finally going to hook up and they made an agreement that they’re not allowed to influence when it happens or they can’t win the bet.”

Lindsey’s mouth falls open. “They- What?”

She’d like to say that she can’t believe her friends would do something like that, but she very much CAN believe that her friends would do something like that. She would be right there doing it with them if the situation was about anyone else. 

“They tried to get me in on it, but I have a feeling they’re all going to lose because you’ve already hooked up, so I said no.”

Lindsey sits down hard. 

“Ha, I knew it!” Kelley declares triumphantly, but Lindsey-

Lindsey feels like she’s barely breathing. 

“How did-”

“Things got all awkward with you two that one camp,” Kelley replies with a shrug. “And then you broke up with Russell shortly afterwards. It didn’t take a genius.”

“We didn’t- I-”

“Breathe, Linds. No judgment here. It’s hard to figure it out. But now that you have, back to my initial question: when are you going to ask Sonny out?”

“I- We- We’re friends.”

“Yes. And when you ask her out you’ll still be friends, but you’ll get to go on dates,” Kelley replies. 

“It’s not that simple!”

“Why not?” Kelley asks. 

Coming from her it sounds like such a basic question, but Lindsey KNOWS that it’s not that simple, that there is still too much they’re sorting out, that there’s still guilt attached. 

“Because!”

Kelley looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

“Because we cheated! We- I mean- Fuck!” Lindsey buries her head in her hands. “Over and over. We- I didn’t do it right the first time. I need to do it right this time.”

She feels Kelley’s hand warm on her back, rubbing comforting circles. 

“Okay. So you feel guilty because you slept with Sonny and you feel like you used her a bit to figure out the whole not straight thing, and now you’re so scared to not do it right that you’re putting it off way longer than you need to.”

“That’s not-” Lindsey starts to protest, but Kelley cuts her off. 

“She looks at you like you hold the moon and the stars in your pocket, do you know that? Have you gotten out of your guilt enough to notice?”

Lindsey lifts her head enough to peer at Kelley out of one eye through the slits in her fingers. “She does?”

“Always has,” Kelley replies. 

“That’s not- That’s-” Lindsey stops. She thinks. She thinks about how quickly Sonny kissed her back. She thinks about how Sonny gave in once she knew that Lindsey actually liked HER specifically. She thinks and she thinks and things click into place a little more. 

“Maybe you’re still beating yourself up, and okay, guilt takes time, but I think whenever you’re ready, she’ll be ready too.”

Lindsey drops her hands from her face and sits up straight, looking at Kelley. “You think she’s ready now?”

Kelley shrugs. “No girlfriends in camp, but camp ends Monday, and I think she’ll be ready Monday.”

Monday feels really soon, but at the same time- 

“I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Then don’t cheat on her or I’ll pummel you,” Kelley replies with a grin. 

And Lindsey laughs. She laughs even knowing that the threat is probably very real. Even knowing that probably Kelley wouldn’t be alone in that. She laughs because she realizes that that’s not something she’s remotely worried about. 

She’s not a cheater. She cheated, but it’s not who she is, and Sonny-

Well, Sonny is really her everything. It’s why it’s so important that she get this right. It’s why-

“Monday.”

“Tuesday might work, too.”

“Thanks.”

“Also? You can talk to me about whatever, whenever. I’m only a Facetime away.”

Lindsey thinks she’s going to have to remember that.

  
  


She has a speech planned. An elaborate speech. It’s a good one. She thinks it’s a good one, at least. 

Except that the moment that Sonny sits down beside her on the plane, all words fly out of her head. 

And then Sonny is grinning at her in that way that she has, the one that never fails to unravel Lindsey’s train of thought. 

How is she ever supposed to find the right words to express herself when Sonny just has to smile like THAT and suddenly she’s trying to remember how to breathe? 

“You okay?”

“Go out with me?”

Sonny’s eyebrows go up and her lips are pursed and she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t respond and Lindsey feels herself beginning to panic. She feels herself fighting the urge to take it back, but she doesn’t WANT to take it back. She just wants Sonny to say yes. 

But maybe she’s waited too long. 

Maybe -

“Oh, wait, really?” Sonny asks. 

Lindsey nods, her brows furrowing in confusion. 

“Last time you took it back, so I wanted to check.”

Lindsey feels her cheeks flush. “I’m not taking it back.”

And then Sonny is giving her a very different kind of smile, but it melts her just as much. It’s a little shy and a lot happy and Sonny bites her lip when she nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Sonny agrees. 

“Fucking finally,” gets muttered from the seat behind them, and Lindsey almost balks because it’s AD that’s said it, not Tobin, but she hears Tobin chuckle, and she honestly doesn’t have time to wonder right now about who else has figured her and Sonny out because Sonny has just agreed to date her and she kind of wants to just shout that from the rooftops. 

  
  


She’s overplanned. She knows it the second she picks Sonny up and they both stand there awkwardly in their nice dresses. Lindsey’s green and tight-fitting, a slit up her leg and a deep v-neck, and Sonny’s blue and shorter with a low back, and both seem far too formal for them. She’s booked them into the fanciest restaurant and she knows what time salsa dancing starts at three different clubs afterwards depending on what time they finish dinner and it’s all-

It’s all too much. 

But the sight of Sonny, with her hair down and earrings in and a hint of makeup on in that dress takes Lindsey’s breath away. And the way that Sonny smiles shyly up at her makes her heart beat faster in her chest. And she forgets, in the moment, that this is too much. She gets swept up. 

Because she is finally, FINALLY, taking Sonny out properly. The way she deserved all along. 

“You look gorgeous,” she breathes into the air between them, and then Sonny is smiling wider and pressing a kiss to her cheek as she says, “You do too,” and Lindsey forgets anything but that she’s here with Sonny. 

  
  


The food is good but the conversation-

It’s not that it’s not good, but it doesn’t flow. It’s filled with awkward pauses that shouldn’t be there. They KNOW how to talk to each other. Sonny is the one person she’s always been able to talk to (before all of this at least). It’s one of the things she loves about her.

And-

Oh. 

She swallows the thought down. She swallows it down and she smiles across the table, smiles at the way the candlelight glints in Sonny’s eyes, and the way Sonny shyly tucks her hair behind her ear, and smiles as Sonny’s knee bumps hers under the table. 

The waiter comes to offer them dessert menus, but Lindsey knows-

This isn’t right. This isn’t the way this is supposed to go. In her quest to make Sonny feel like the most special girl in the world tonight she’s lost sight of who Sonny is, of who they are with each other. 

She shakes her head and says politely, “No, thanks. Just the check, please,” as the waiter looks down his nose at her. She doesn’t care. She pulls out her credit card and looks across the table at Sonny and thinks, “I can do better.” pint

Out loud she says, “Let’s get out of here.”

  
  


They change into sweats and hit up a store and Lindsey buys a of Sonny’s favorite ice cream. They sit outside and watch the stars, watch Portland, and eat straight out of the container with two spoons. 

“Sorry,” Lindsey mumbles, feeling a blush grace her cheeks. 

Sonny gives her a puzzled look, so Lindsey elaborates. 

“For trying to make tonight so- Not us.”

Sonny grins. “I didn’t mind getting all fancy for you, you know.”

“But you’re just as beautiful in sweats eating ice cream out of the container as you are dressed up in a fancy restaurant. You’re- You’re beautiful always.”

It’s not enough. The words still aren’t right.

But maybe that doesn’t completely matter because Sonny is smiling at her in a new way, one she hasn’t seen before, one that makes her chest feel tight in a good way. 

And then Sonny is kissing her, her lips cold and a little sticky, but it doesn’t matter because this, this is them, and they’re outside, and it doesn’t matter who catches them, not really. 

But Sonny pulls away too soon, and her brows are knit together. “Do you miss him?”

Lindsey doesn’t have to ask who. “No.” There’s no hesitation. She knows she doesn’t. She’d thought she would just a little because of how long they were together, but the places that he used to occupy in her life don’t feel empty. 

Maybe she answered a little too quickly, though, because Sonny says, “Are you sure?” like she doesn’t quite believe her, like part of her still can’t believe that she’s the one that Lindsey really wants to be with, even with everything that’s happened and the time Lindsey took to herself. 

“Emily Ann Sonnett,” Lindsey begins and Sonny snorts at the use of her full name, but meets Lindsey’s eyes all the same. “Listen up, okay?”

Sonny nods. 

“I thought I loved him. I really did. I thought that he was what I wanted, who I wanted to build a life with. But I spent all my time convincing myself that was true. And with you-”

Lindsey hesitates now. Now it feels like too much too soon. Now it seems like a one year anniversary speech not a first date admission. But this isn’t like most first dates and Sonny isn’t just anyone, so she pushes forward, swallowing down her anxiety. 

“With you I’ve always known that I love you, it just took me a while to figure out how.”

And Sonny’s eyes are bright, and there’s maybe a hint of tears in them that Lindsey can’t help but reach up to brush away. 

Sonny turns her face into Lindsey’s hand, and Lindsey cups her cheek, and then guides her in, kisses her softly in a way that they haven’t done before. It’s not that there’s no passion in it, but there’s a tenderness that they haven’t allowed themselves before. 

Sonny pulls away, but not far, and then she leans her forehead against Lindsey’s. “Well what took you so long?” she teases. 

Lindsey laughs, but then she pulls back and frowns. “You could have said something, you know.”

“Um, you had a boyfriend. And thought you were straight. And you’re my best friend and I really didn’t want to lose my best friend,” Sonny points out.

And she’s right. Lindsey knows she’s right, but there’s one specific set of words that sticks out to her most in that. “Still your best friend?”

Sonny balks. “Um, duh! Just because I really can’t wait to get you naked again, doesn’t mean you’re suddenly off the hook for best friend duties. It just means that when I freak out at 3 a.m., hopefully all I have to do is roll over instead of reaching for my phone.”

Lindsey’s mouth goes dry and her eyes go wide as the words, “can’t wait to get you naked again” get stuck in her head. She puts her spoon in the almost empty carton of ice cream, then sets it down. She gets to her feet and holds out her hand to Sonny, who’s looking up at her with a confused expression on her face. 

“What?” Sonny asks. 

“Come on.” Lindsey beckons. 

Sonny takes her hand and gets to her feet, depositing her spoon in the carton of ice cream as she does so. Her expression doesn’t change though, so Lindsey pulls her in for a kiss. It’s slow and lazy, and not necessarily building to anything, but Lindsey knows what she wants. She gets it now. She gets that she’s been stupid in more ways than she’s realized. 

“What’s going on? Why’re we wasting ice cream?” Sonny asks, pulling away, not far, but a little. 

“It’s just a few bites,” Lindsey counters playfully. 

“It’s ice cream,” Sonny persists. 

“You’re more important,” Lindsey replies. 

And Sonny melts into her. She melts into the kiss and into Lindsey’s body and Lindsey feels it, feels the way her body presses in closer, feels the weight against her. 

“I thought we had to take it slow to do this right,” she confesses against Sonny’s lips, whimpering when Sonny pulls back to look at her, arms still slung loosely around Lindsey’s neck. “I thought I had to make everything special to let you know how special you are, to let you know that last time- That before- That wasn’t us. Not properly. I thought that I needed to give you space and take things slow and- It’s like the mindfulness stuff. I just need to be here with you. I need to be in this moment. And probably I’ll keep thinking about future moments, but I’ve ALWAYS seen you in my future. Now I just know in what capacity. And that is- Terrifying. Can we pretend I didn’t just start talking about futures? Honestly it’s bad enough I’ve already admitted I’m in love with you when-”

Sonny’s lips are soft but the kiss is firm and decisive, and when they break apart a few moments later, it’s only so that Sonny can breathe, “Take me home,” into Lindsey’s mouth before claiming her lips in another kiss. 

And, well, who is Lindsey to argue with a request like that? 

  
  


Sonny is her best friend. She is. 

She’s the person who she knows she can count on, no matter what, no matter when. Kelley pulled a prank that wound them up in jail and they needed bailing out? Lindsey would call Sonny. Well, in all honesty, she’d probably call Tobin because Sonny would be in jail with them, but the point was the same. She’s the person that Lindsey can talk to about anything. Literally anything in the whole world. 

Sonny is also her girlfriend. Maybe they haven’t actually talked about official titles yet, but as they curl up in bed together, bodies spent, several orgasms later, laughing and giggling about nothing in particular, Lindsey knows that it may as well be official. Sonny’s a great girlfriend because she’s a great best friend. And, well, the sex being mind-blowing is really just an amazing bonus. 

The thing is though, the thing that Lindsey really didn’t have before, is the certainty. She knows, deep inside. She feels it down to her very core, without question. 

“I love you,” she blurts. It’s their first date and they’ve just had incredible sex and she’s declaring her love with a smile on her face, and Sonny BEAMS back at her, kisses her and says, “I love you, too, idiot.”

And Lindsey knows that’s true too. 


End file.
